


The Sun Hasn't Died

by bereshit001



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: All other characters, F/M, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Post S01, Semi-Alternative Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereshit001/pseuds/bereshit001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four SG-1 members, one System Lord and one uninvited guest – a.k.a. Jack is having a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. S02E01 In The Serpent’s Lair There Is A King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason of the birth of this story is simply that I don’t like wars, I don’t like how the governments cannot make ethical decisions, and it really pissed me off sometimes how SG-1 and especially Jack handled certain situations so badly that it only made everything worse – not for the American heroes, of course, but for the innocent, non-Tau’ri characters. (It goes without saying, that only a really good TV-show can pull you in so much that it can piss you off – to cut is short, don’t misunderstand me, I genuinely love this series.) So I decided that I put one of my characters from our original fantasy universe with Mirarwa into the SG universe. In my point of view this is not a Mary Sue, but a genuine crossover. Of course, in our world there is magic, therefore I had to change basic things, and I have to be frank, there’s no real challenge for my character – it’s just not well-balanced. That is, only at the beginning of the series. But I won’t deny it: my character is a freaking deus ex machina. Yup.  
> This is just the first chapter. I have notes through all the SG-1 ten seasons, and the SG:A and SG:U seasons, too. My main characters are the SG-1 teammates, and my OC is just a side-character. Ish. I tried to make it even, so my character won’t pop up every minute to solve every problem – no, the SG-1 members have to cope on their own; they just have a little help, and landed in a new world order. But no further spoilers.  
> My plan is to make a complete rewritten version of the original series. Therefore my chapters will be like episodes, and I work from the TV-show, often quoting from it. It’s a fun project to see when I make a small difference in the beginning, how it will affect the following parts and then completely change the outcome. :)  
> As you can see, I start with the series’ second season – everything that happened in the first season is canon. (I assume, dear reader, that you know this series pretty well.) My story begins in 1998. Oh, and because I put my characters in the SG universe, and that is the base of my writing, that’s why I will adopt all the technobabble and not-so-coherent thing in the show. I won’t try to explain all the unreasonable parts like why everybody speaks English in different planets. This was a B-category TV-show from the nineties – you can’t take it seriously, and truthfully, that’s all part of its charm.  
> The title came from the song “Radioactive” from Imagine Dragons. That was my inspiration music.  
> Last but not least, I’d like to announce that this chapter is just a test-run. Usually I don’t have time to write, and it’s totally possible that not one person will like this story. I wrote it simply because I liked to toy with the characters, and because I wanted to practice my English, since it’s not my native language. Sorry about that. My point is, maybe I won’t continue this little fanfic/crossover project, and leave it just a messed-up one-shot. Maybe in time I will continue. Positive feedback will help, of course, but I won’t ask you to review feverishly – frankly, I myself don’t like writing reviews, I just read the stories. So, *shrug* there you are. After this awfully long AN, I present you my… debatably reading-worthy story.

Yup, this was a pretty bad day.

Jack glared at Apophis with his hands on the back of his neck, while he slowly knelt down before the Goa’uld. His teammates reluctantly followed him, discarding their weapons and kneeling beside him in total surrender. Sam glanced at him silently asking for instructions, and Jack nodded her to wait. Don’t do anything rash. He could see in Daniel’s eyes and in his sagging poise that the archaeologist has already abandoned all hope. He had seen the destruction of Earth once, and fought with everything he had to prevent it from happening again – and it seemed that they had failed. Jack wanted to shake Daniel, to snap him out of his stupor, because damn himself if he had given up fighting!

On the other side Teal’c warily eyed the four Jaffa, who pointed their staff weapons at them from the four corners of the room. They were in superior positions, just out of their reach. No point in fighting now; it would be suicide. That was why Jack surrendered. At the moment. After all, he would think of something soon, for Sam, for Daniel and for the others. A shining New Plan. Not that there was anything wrong with the old plan; this was just not their day, apparently. Monday probably. Or Wednesday. Definitely Wednesday. Jack hated Wednesdays.

A few hours earlier everything had been going smoothly, just according to plan. They surprised the two Jaffa who had come to their cell to kill them. After everything they did, killing Klorel (once), and sabotaging their ship, Apophis sent only two Jaffa to dispose of them? It was an insult in itself. Jack would have been very offended if not for the fact that it made their escape really easy. Bless the Goa’uld’s immense arrogance!

After that they had gone to the cargo bay once again to arm themselves. Unfortunately, a small Jaffa patrol had spotted them, and they had been ensnared in a gunfight… or Zat-fight in their case. One of the wild shots had blown up the DHD, rendering the ship’s Stargate useless. A small glitch in their plan. But if anything, Jack was a glass-half-full kind of guy; they could always try to escape with the Death Gliders if push came to shove. But at that moment the plan had been to recapture Klorel and use him as a hostage to force Apophis to come over to this ship – because the C4 could only blow up one Ha’tak. Well, then they would make it that both Goa’uld would be on that one. After that – as the plan said – if they couldn’t negotiate, then they could lock up the two snakeheads on the bridge and make their way out as the ship blew into oblivion. Losing their leaders and gods, the remaining Jaffa wouldn’t attack but would withdraw. So, that was The Plan.

It had held up good when they attacked the bridge with the Goa’uld’s own shock grenade, and when they contacted Apophis with their demands. And it had gone spectacularly sideways when Apophis showed up by the transportation rings not alone but with six other Jaffa. The SG-1 team had been disarmed immediately and Klorel was sent to the other Ha’tak to continue the descend into Earth’s atmosphere.

In retrospect, Jack thought, you really shouldn’t threaten someone to kill his son when said son can be and had been brought back to life with a nice piece of technology. That somehow took the edge off of the threat.

Jack watched with raising alarm as the Earth grew closer and closer in the big glassy-forcefieldy window behind Apophis. They were in position to attack, and the Goa’uld turned from the controlling device to them with a smug and condescending smile on his face. Jack’s hands were tingling to smash that annoying face in. It was just a reflex, really.

“Now, humans and the Shol’va, you can all watch as I destroy your world for your insolence. Witness as a true god smites down on your little planet with his full wrath!” Apophis’ eyes glowed white as he spread his arms in a truly theatrical fashion, his voice going deeper. “Tremble before my presence and maybe I grant you a swift death after that!”

The Goa’uld turned back towards the control device and put his hand into it to send out his command through all two ships. To launch the attack. Daniel’s breath hitched, and next to him Sam’s whole body tensed up. Teal’c was ready to fight or die trying from moment one.

_Any second now, brain,_ begged Jack in his mind _. Come on, come up with something! Anything! Say a joke to distract him! Just do something!_

Both Apophis and Jack opened their mouth in the same moment to speak – one to order the termination of a whole planet, and one to desperately buy time. But then the moment dragged on and not a word came out. Everybody in the room was deadly silent with their mouths hanging open. What stopped every one of them and reduced the two speechless was the strange, out of blue appearance of a new person.

Jack really didn’t know what to think. In the past year he had seen many strange things and technologies beyond his imagination (which was, let’s face it, not a hard thing to achieve), but this was new. The stranger appeared from thin air, without using the rings or any other visible device. There wasn’t any sound or visual effect which would have indicated that he was being transported somehow. A blink of an eye, and he was just… there.

In the shocked stillness of the situation Jack’s military sense kicked in, and with a few glances he sized up the newcomer. The man – and Jack needed a confusing moment to short that out – had an androgynous face. He looked really young, maybe in his early twenties, but Jack wasn’t sure – he had some kind of agelessness in himself. His jaw-line and nose were finely shaped giving him a handsome, almost womanly soft look. His skin was slightly tan, and his features were Caucasian with an undertone of Asian complexion. He had thick, raven-black hair, the like you can only see on far-eastern people. His front locks were loose, falling into his eyes and long enough to reach below his chin. The rest of his hair was pulled back in a bun, held up by a hairpin, where the ends of his locks were standing up stragglingly.

Aside from all these, Jack had to admit, the stranger’s most peculiar feature was his eyes. They were an odd mixture of brown and the red of fresh blood. The color was so specific and alien that Jack involuntarily shivered at the sight – he knew no Tau’ri human could produce this kind of pigmentation.

The man was five-point-sevenish feet tall, and had a feminine built. His body was lean, lithe, and more sinewy than muscular. His all-black clothes were like second skins on him, lining out his form. On top he wore a high-necked and sleeveless bolero-like garment ornamented with fine, elaborated embroideries, their design nothing like Jack had ever seen before. Under that was a tight-fitting shirt with long sleeves, which reached down to his fingers. From the hip down the shirt didn’t end, but continued as a tail, or more like half of a swallow-tail of a dress-coat – it fall upon his right leg and was tapering until its point touched the ground. His trousers were slinkily covering his legs, and from the knees below he wore lace-up boots.

On his right forearm, above the clothes, he had a wide bracelet, and there were thin rings on all of his ten fingers.

All in all, he really didn’t look intimidating or dangerous at all; more like a stray fashion model who took a wrong turn towards the catwalk.

That is, until the whimsical moment passed, and everyone started to think and move again. The four Jaffa, overcoming their dumbfounded state, quickly aimed their Ma’Tok staff at the intruder. The man simply looked at them with emotionless eyes, and waved his hand. Before the Jaffa could activate their weapons, a clear slash appeared on their stomachs, ripping through armor, skin and symbiote. Blood splashed across the place, tainting the walls, the floor and even Jack’s clothes as the big warriors tumbled to the ground lifelessly, next to their previously fallen comrades. It effectively stunned the SG-1 team back into shocked stillness.

The new and from this moment on very scary man then turned to Apophis. The Goa’uld in his first cowardly reflex stumbled backwards a few steps, then quickly activated his personal energy shield. With fresh confidence he raised his arm with the hand device on it to kill the intruder. His eyes glowed white while the gem in the Kara kesh flashed red. Jack expected the man to fly backward as the energy wave hit him, or fall to his knees as Apophis places his palm on his forehead. He expected the Goa’uld to say something theatrical and roisterous again. He expected Teal’c and the others to be ready to act. Although the stranger could be either friend or foe, at the moment he was playing to their hands. He gave them an opening, and Jack intended to use it. But then none of the aforementioned things he expected happened. Wednesday, remember?

The man swiftly grabbed the System Lord’s wrist, twisted it, and then kicked him in the chest with so much force that Apophis flew to the opposite wall. The Goa’uld crumbled to the floor, panting and cursing, and then started to scream for guards.

Nothing happened. No reinforcement came through the doors kicking and screaming. Jack finally allowed himself a gloating smile.

“Let’s talk face to face,” said the man looking down at the Goa’uld impassively. This was the first time he spoke; his voice wasn’t masculine deep, but it was pleasantly calm and collected. He didn’t move from his spot next to the controlling device where Apophis was a second ago. He just lifted his arm and at that moment the Goa’uld System Lord, archenemy of the humans (and many other species), fall over. Dead. Jack’s chin hit the floor, and the SG-1 team was rendered speechless again.

The man kept his hand in front of himself and in his grip there was Apophis in his true, naked reality: the symbiote itself. The man held the Goa’uld’s head between his thumb, index- and middle finger, while the body of the parasite wrapped itself around his forearm. The man faced the Goa’uld who hissed at him with its quadripartite mouth like an agitated snake.

“It’s inconvenient,” continued the stranger as he turned the symbiote from side to side studying it, unbothered by the fact that a larva-like creature was screeching at him angrily, “that in your host’s body you can hide your thoughts behind your host’s mind, and in your true form you don’t have a concrete mind that I can read. So let’s try plan C.”

The next move of the man stunned the sobering company again. Jack really should have been used to it by now. Expect the unexpected – that was his motto. From now on, anyway. Considering the recent events, he knew he wouldn’t have a chance to come to his senses for a good time.

Jack watched with open horror and disgust as the man lifted the Goa’uld to his mouth, then without hesitation he swallowed the parasite. The SG-1 team gaped at him as he forcibly gulped down the symbiote with his eyes closed and his face turning upwards. Then his hands feebly fell next to his body, and he stood still and silent. For a second or two everybody waited with bated breath. Jack didn’t know what the hell the man planed or hoped for, but he knew he failed when the stranger’s mouth twisted in a malevolent smile. He started laughing, but his voice was deeper and doubled now. When he lowered his head to stare at them, his eyes glowed white.

“That fool!” Apophis, in the body of the strange man, cried out triumphantly, a superior and contemptuous look on his face. “He had no idea who he was dealing with!” He surveyed himself with bright eyes. “All this power! I can be the new Supreme System Lord with this much power! I will conquer the universe! And I will start by killing you, filthy humans, and your little planet!”

Apophis raised his arm to wave it just like the man did when he arrived. Jack braced himself for the pain – in his mind he could already see a slash appearing on their stomachs, bisecting them. He could feel the momentary agony, hear the scream of Sam and Daniel, and taste the bitterness in his mouth, because he let them down. He couldn’t protect them, because he didn’t know how to; didn’t know what kind of weapon the guy – and now Apophis – used. But it was no use now. He would die, any second now… any second… any… second…

Jack carefully opened one eye. The man/Apophis was standing still on the same spot, arm stretched out. He was glassy-eyed, but then his face became emotionless, and finally the corners of his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. The hair stood up on the back of Jack’s neck. Now, that was an intimidating grin! It outclassed all of Apophis’ annoying ones, showing just how small a fish was the Goa’uld compared to the newcomer.

“Did you really think it would be this easy,” asked the man in his normal, slightly unimpressed voice. He spoke aloud, but addressed the Goa’uld in his head. “While you were busy playing the main villain, I’ve read your memories. You are a nasty little piece of _gruga_.” He lowered his hand while his features hardened and his eyes turned darker. “In the name of the Regis, ruler of four galaxies and forty-three hundred sixty-six worlds, I condemn you to death for your sins.”

The verdict was given, complete and final. The man sighed, and then began picking his nails in a blasé manner. “You are in denial.” After a short silence he nodded. “Now you are angry.” He halted, then quirked one of his eyebrows. “Now you are negotiating.” A little break and he returned to examine his nails. “Now you are scared… And now you are dead.”

Daniel was the first who regained his wits.

“But– What– How?”

Okay, maybe that was an overstatement.

“I’m a mage,” answered the man with a shrug, as if that statement explained everything; but he only met with blank looks. “I can control everything in my body. I simply disassembled the Goa’uld into useful molecules. I think I will skip dinner today.”

Jack blinked at him and after an awkward minute he finally found his jaw (on the floor) and remembered how to use it.

“Who– _What_ are you?” His voice was a little high-pitched, but he attributed it to tiredness. Too many unexpected events and new and shocking experiences. Not that he wanted to look a gift-horse in the mouth, after all the stranger killed Apophis and stopped the attack on Earth. But he started to get fed up with the situation, and he wanted answers. And explanations. Or just a name, really, to know whom to address the thank you card.

The man ignored him. He busied himself with the controlling device then turned back towards the door and started to casually walk out of the room. “Come with me. Ask stupid questions later.”

Nobody moved. At the door he looked back over his shoulder. “Do you want to go home or remain here forever?”

Daniel was the first to act. He stood up and cast a peculiar glare at Jack which said something like: ‘he helped us so far, it might be worth to follow him.’

“That’s just great,” sighed Jack. He considered staying there just out of spite, but then reluctantly gave in. He got on his feet and lent a hand to Sam. They took the weapons of the dead Jaffa – better safe than sorry – then went after their rescuer in a much slower and cautious pace. Ahead of them the stranger stalked confidently through the corridors. He moved like a feline, with light and graceful steps, almost as if he was dancing. Definitely a model on a catwalk.

The SG-1 team followed him from corner to corner, sneaking behind the pillars, weapons ready, awaiting a group of Jaffa coming down the hallway in every minute. Unlike their guide who walked forth without a worry. It only took two minutes to discovered why their rescuer was so relaxed. They could spot many patrolling Jaffa – lying on the ground, unconscious.

Sam checked the nearest warrior, feeling his pulse. “What happened here?”

“I put them into sleep,” stated the man without wasting a glance. “All of them.”

Daniel looked around with astonishment. “But how could you do this? And when?”

“I’m good at multitasking.” The guy’s smile was sharp and mildly smug. Jack and Teal’c looked at each other with mutually raised eyebrows, and Jack wanted to ask further but Sam purposefully cleared her throat. “Where are we going?”

“To your homeplanet.”

“I hate to be a party crusher,” started Jack, “but the Stargate is useless. How do you plan to get us out of here? Do you have a ship? Or can you–” he waved his hand in a nonfigurative way “beam us out of here?”

“Sir, we can use the Gliders,” noted Sam standing up next from the sleeping Jaffa.

“I don’t think it’s possible, Captain Carter.” Teal’c was calm and polite as ever when delivering the bad news. “A Glider can only hold two persons and I am the only one who can pilot them.”

Jack stepped closer like he couldn’t hear him – or couldn’t believe him. “You say we wouldn’t fit? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Because– Ah, never mind!” Jack holstered his weapon. “After we get home, you and I will have a little talk about sharing information.”

“You mean after you survive the court-marshal, get striped of your ranks and kicked out of the SGC?” interjected Daniel.

“That’s exactly what I meant,” nodded Jack back eagerly.

“You just can’t wait to say them ‘I told you so’” added Sam with a smile. “Sir.”

Jack turned and pointed at her. “That’s exactly what I meant.” Then he turned back to their freakish savior. “Sorry. You were saying something about getting us home?”

The man just tipped his head to one side while listening to their banter. He waited patiently, almost curiously for them to finish their conversation. “Just follow me.” Without further ado he started to walk away again.

Well, he wasn’t a talkative guy that was for sure. Jack muttered something under his breath, but obeyed. He wanted to ask more questions, like how the man did his pop-up-out-of-nowhere thing, or how did he separate the Goa’uld from his host, or how did he disintegrate the parasite inside of his body – he bet Carter already had several possible scientific explanations – or who the hell was he? But if his inner clock was right, then they had only minutes before the C4 detonated, and then bye-bye court-marshal, bye-bye monthly bills and noisy neighbors! Hm. In this light staying wasn’t such a bad idea after all. But then again, he hadn’t completed his bucket list yet.

It was a shame he didn’t had a bucket list; if he arrived home safely, he would write one, promise.

The odd company silently made its way through the ship – Jack didn’t know where to. How did the man want to go to Earth? Fly? Teleport? _Use magic?_

The answer was more profane than that. After one last turn they arrived at the cargo bay where the Stargate stood. The room bore the marks of the Great Battle. Or so Jack wanted to think of it as that. Zat-shots and staff weapon-blasts covered the golden walls and steel boxes, and above all there was a huge hole on the side of the DHD.

“See, it’s ruined,” pointed out Jack when the man walked up to the Stargate. “You’re stuck here with…us…” His words slowly died away on his lips as the man touched the gate and the rim immediately started spinning and locking chevrons. Expect the unexpected, Jack reprimanded himself. It wasn’t a motto anymore; it was his new philosophy of life.

“How are you doing that?” Sam was glancing from the DHD to the Stargate and back with utter incomprehension. The second and third chevrons encoded under the man’s palm. He wasn’t smiling but his features became softer and his eyes kinder as he looked back at the woman. Suddenly he seemed much younger and harmless. If Jack didn’t know better, he would have said that this man before him couldn’t hurt a fly. The realization was terrifying: any person with a level of acting talent and charisma such as his was more than dangerous. Scratch the helping hand and the trustworthy appearance, they could not afford to let their guard down. The stranger was too powerful and unknown. He was a wild card, a big question mark, not part of the picture. He could be a Venus Flytrap, and humanity could be the fly.

“With the naquadah in my body, thanks to that Goa’uld,” answered the man Sam’s question. He continued dialing the fourth and fifth chevrons. “I can resonate the mineral in my blood with the ones in the gate and thereby control it. Actually it’s very simple; with a lot of practice even you can do it.” He looked at Teal’c who just arched his eyebrow in a very teal’cish manner. Meanwhile the sixth and seventh chevrons lodged in place and the event horizon settled. Jack was paying attention but didn’t recognize the address. He glanced at Daniel who also watched the Stargate dial, but the archaeologist shook his head. Wherever the man was taking them to then dial back to Earth, it was a place they didn’t know.

“And what about this ship?” asked Jack when the man signaled them to go.

“I have programmed it and the other to fly straight back to their homeworld.”

“But the detonation– ”

“No longer happening. I removed your explosives from the ships.”

“But– ”

“A-a!” The man wobbled one raised finger before him, as if Jack was just an impudent child, effectively silencing the startled soldier. “I said, ask stupid questions later.”

With this final word the man waved them again to go. Daniel obeyed first – he really wanted to get off this blasted ship already. He wanted to go home, fell onto his bed, and just sleep and forget this whole nightmare. Sam followed him but with a more alarmed attitude. She readied her gun before entering the puddle, and Jack silently blessed her for that.

Another bless went for Teal’c, who already adopted the human military’s tactics, or more likely, the Colonel’s way of thinking. He took up the rear, securing their retreat, protecting Jack’s back and watching out for all of them. Jack nodded his thanks to him, and then “politely” let the stranger ahead of him. The man flashed him a knowing grin and went into the gate with Jack and Teal’c in tow. The Stargate closed after them and one minute later the two Ha’taks jumped into hyperspace, and disappeared from the Earth’s sky forever.

 

Hammond eyed the Stargate expectantly behind the Operations Room’s window. After the two bombs had harmlessly exploded upon hitting some kind of shield in front of the enemy ships, it seemed all hope was lost. Samuels and the Pentagon vastly underestimated the Goa’uld forces. Hammond didn’t have this luxury. They had started to evacuate people through the Stargate and place them at the Alpha Site. Brilliant people, best in their fields of expertise – but so few. What will remain of humankind if Apophis succeeds in his retribution? His own family was out there, unsuspecting and ideally going through their day, unaware of the upcoming destruction. It had been Hammond’s hardest choice in all his life not to order some soldier to pick up his family and bring them here, where he could send them off-world to safety. But no; Hammond was staying here, with the rest of the Stargate Command, and he would give hell to the Jaffa when they would try to take over this base. Maybe the Goa’uld had the technological superiority, but these soldiers here had the biggest and strongest hearts to defend their home-planet. They would die fighting.

It was a strangely elevating moment, a silver lining, when he could finally put Samuels in his place. Oh, the face of that man when he had denied his request to go to the Alpha Site…

But then the impossible happened: the two Goa’uld ships had simply left. After a minute of perplexed silence the base had exploded in an uproar. Everybody was celebrating. The situation was confusing, but it was a victory. They had done it!

Hammond’s first thought was of SG-1. If there was someone behind the sudden and unexpected retreat of the Goa’uld ships, it had to be them. If he knew anything about the team, it was that they were usually right. Dr. Jackson had spoken the truth about the attack. When Senator Kinsey had shut down the program they didn’t let it go. They had taken their chances with the unknown gate address, and probably came across the hostile Goa’uld forces. They tried their best to stop them and succeeded. This was beginning to be a pattern with them. It should have made Hammond nervous, but honestly, he was proud to have this team under his command. They were the best of the best.

And they had the uncanny ability to always come back alive. So Hammond was waiting. Behind him someone opened a bottle of champagne. (How the hell did that get there? Ah, never mind…) Everybody was cheering, hugging and drinking. Hammond let them – he himself could have used a little rest after all that happened. Or a week-long vacation. Or retirement. He had two lovely granddaughters whom he really couldn’t have enough time together with.

Fifteen minutes after the ship’s disappearance, the base alarm went off with a high-pitched sound.

“Unscheduled off-world activation,” announced Walter with an alarmed tone. He was one of the few who stayed at their stations and orchestrated the return of the evacuated scientists. But apparently this wasn’t in their plan. The gate started spinning and locking chevrons from an unknown address. Hammond straightened himself, his hand hovering above the keyboard, ready to type in the self-destruct code, as he watched the kawoosh burst forward and the Iris closed. This could be a posterior attack of Apophis – or the very thing he was waiting for.

“It’s SG-1, sir,” proclaimed the technician, and Hammond let out the breath he was holding. “Open the Iris!”

And there they were. Hammond couldn’t stop the relieved smile appearing on his face. Colonel O’Neill, Captain Carter, Dr. Jackson and Teal’c stepped out of the event horizon, in their ragged black clothes. They were a little beat-up but altogether fine. The soldiers in the Embarkation Room were applauding loudly and happily. The men in the upper room stood up as a tribute to them. They celebrated SG-1 as heroes. And they were that: damn good heroes.

Hammond quickly exited the Operations Room and headed down to the Gate Room. He wanted to congratulate them in person. And maybe fuss a little over them, but hey, he had grandfather reflexes; it came with the age. But when he entered the large room from the corridor the clapping had died down and there was an unexpected surprise behind the team.

The new man, also in black clothes, was descending on the ramp to join SG-1. The gate shut down after him and everybody eyed him suspiciously. The newcomer didn’t seem offended by it – he walked with a straight back and gave off an air of authority.

“Colonel, should I call security?”

“No, sir. He’s friendly,” replied O’Neill with a reassuring nod. “I think,” he added under his breath. Or he intended, but it was loud enough to hear by everybody. Hammond knew he did that on purpose, but the strange man didn’t respond to it. He just looked around the room then turned to him. “Is there some place we can talk privately?”

Hammond frowned and opened his mouth to question this whole… thing, but Jack interrupted. “He saved us, sir. I think we should hear him out.”

Hammond looked over them. O’Neill, Carter, Dr. Jackson and Teal’c were all staring at him. They looked tired but absolutely serious. Hammond did not understand the situation fully – who was this newcomer and what did he do – but trusted his men.

“In this case,” he turned to the alien man, straightened his back and gave a grateful nod, “words cannot express our gratitude.” The man nodded back but remained impassive. Hammond studied him for a moment. He held himself like a soldier, ready to move, jump, fight at any moment, but also seemed relaxed like none of the Airmen in here could do any harm to him. His face was unemotional but his strangely colored eyes held a tone of solemnness. Hammond couldn’t pinpoint the man’s age. He looked young but looks can be deceiving.

He helped saving the Earth, and anybody who was the enemy of the Goa’uld was a potential friend of theirs. And right now they needed friends more than ever.

“All right.” With a final sigh Hammond gave in. Usually he liked his teams well rested and treated at the infirmary before a debriefing, but naturally this was a special occasion. He waved all of them to follow him as he exited the Gate Room. Talking in privacy? The Briefing Room next to his office would do.

On their way up the team gave their gear to a pair of lower ranked soldiers. Jack rolled his shoulder relieved from all that weight, literally and figuratively speaking. They sat down at the long conference table; Hammond took the seat at the head of the table at the side of his office while Jack and Sam sat at his right, Daniel and Teal’c opposite them. The stranger stood at the other end. He didn’t sit down just bowed his head to them. Daniel, the anthropologist he always was, mirrored the greeting reflexively. Then the newcomer reached to his leather belt on his waist and unstrapped a sword.

Wait a minute, was there always a sword there? Jack could honestly not tell. He couldn’t remember the weapon back at the ship, nor did any other soldier, as protocol dictated, ask the man to hand over it when they arrived at the base. Maybe there was some camouflage technology on the sword? That is if the thing was really a sword. Frankly, Jack was only guessing from the position and the shape of the thing. It looked like a _ninjato_ , similar to a samurai sword but with a straight and shorter blade. Furthermore it didn’t have a crossguard after the hilt. However, none of that was what made the weapon so quizzical – the oddest thing was that it wasn’t made out of metal, but it seemed to be one piece of gemstone. The whole sword from the grip to the point of the blade was shiny black as onyx, like it was truly carved out of a mineral. It wasn’t flintlike but had a smooth and sleek surface. But how could an onyx-weapon be effective against a metal one? How could it cut anything?

The man lifted the strange sword up horizontally, balancing it in his two open palms in a ceremonial gesture, then placed the weapon on the table. Jack wasn’t an anthropologist but even he understood the meaning of it: ‘I don’t want to fight you, I came in peace.’

“I’m the Regis, ruler of four galaxies and forty-three hundred sixty-six worlds.”

For introductions this was really straightforward and theatrical. A little too Goa’uld-like for Jack’s taste. The Regis? It didn’t sound like a name, more like a title. Jack glanced at Daniel if the ex-professor knew anything about this name – more mythology or something – but the archaeologist was silent. Even more, he looked dead tired. For a minute there Jack ignored everything else and studied his friend with concern. He didn’t even know when was the last time Daniel slept.

The introduction put a deep frown on Hammond’s face, however diplomacy was one of the most important things in his line of work, so he quickly took his turn.

“I’m General George Hammond, the head of the United States Air Force’s Stargate Command. This is Colonel Jack O’Neill, Captain Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson and Teal’c. You are currently on planet Earth.”

The Colonel, ever the helpful, chipped in. “Four galaxies and forty-something worlds, you said something like that before. But what do you mean by it?”

The man blinked several times at him. “Sorry, I thought your culture knows astronomy. Or do I speak the right language? Because sometimes I slip accidentally.”

Hammond glared O’Neill back into submission then turned back to the Regis with a more polite smile. “No, I assure you, you speak the right language. What the Colonel meant is _how_ do you mean it?”

“Well, there are numberless galaxies in the universe, and in them there are many planets,” the man began the explanation as he sat slowly down. “A good deal of them are inhabited by various creatures. Humans, too. To simplify the matter, forty-three hundred sixty-six worlds of them form a confederacy, and I’m the head of that.”

It was Dr. Jackson’s turn to question. “You said ruler – like a king?”

“More like a highest authority.” The Regis hummed, contemplating something. “One of the galaxies I control is very close to yours.” He continued slowly, carefully choosing his words. “You call it the Large Magellanic Cloud, I believe. I started to wander over this galaxy – the Milky Way, right? The first habituated planet I came across was this. I was curious so I stayed for a few month and studied your cultures and history. Then suddenly two spaceships appeared. I gathered you didn’t have any space technology hence I went to help you. Now I know everything about the Goa’uld and the problem they pose.”

Daniel immediately perked up. “Wait, you say _everything_?” He hesitantly licked his lips. “On the ship you said… you said you’ve read Apophis’ mind. Do you know anything about Sha’re?”

The Regis looked uncertain. “No, sorry, I don’t know her.”

“She is the host!” Daniel exclaimed, frustrated. This was his first real lead on finding his wife after a year of dead ends. And after Apophis’ death maybe this was his only chance before Sha’re would disappear amidst the System Lords’ rivalry fights. “The host of Apophis’ wife!”

The Regis tilted his head to the side, still frowning unsurely. “The Goa’uld don’t know the word: wife. They don’t have a marriage system like yours. I’m sorry, but in Apophis’ memory nobody fits that description.”

“Priem’ka,” offered Teal’c in his serene, baritone voice, helping out. He seemed calm but hoped for an answer as much as Daniel. The Jaffa never said but he never stopped blaming himself for what happened to his friend’s wife.

Daniel didn’t know this word but only needed a second to translate it in his head. “His beloved, yes,” he gestured vividly.

The realization drew on the Regis’ face. “Ah, Amaunet!” He shook his head. “Sorry about it, Apophis didn’t know and didn’t care about her host.”

“We understand,” joined Hammond in, “but do you know where she is?”

“Yes, but you won’t like the answer.”

Daniel was practically at the edge of his seat with anticipation, however after hearing that he paled. “Is she alright?”

“She’s alright. She’s pregnant.”

“What!?” That was Jack. Sam’s eyes doubled, even Hammond looked shocked. But the news hit Daniel the hardest. The archaeologist didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Numerous emotions crossed his face in rapid succession. Firstly denial. Then open horror. Dismay. Nausea. Anger. Sorrow. He slowly sat back on his seat, his pose shagging while his expression finally became blank, his eyes glassy.

“Apophis made her pregnant for the purpose of having the child as his new host in the future,” the Regis elucidated. The disgust was clear on Jack’s and Sam’s features. Hammond stared at the man with disbelief. Teal’c scowled, his face darkening.

“I’ve never known a Goa’uld to father a human child,” he commented, disturbed. “This is unheard of even in the Jaffa legends.”

“Yeah, he was a sicko, we get it,” Jack spit out the words. “No change in there.”

“After that,” the Regis went on, “he sent her away to protect the baby from the other System Lords. She’s on Abydos, where the host’s family can look after her; and because that planet is not under of any Goa’uld’s rule.”

“That’s– that’s good news!” Sam looked around with a hopeful smile.

“No, it’s not,” muttered Daniel as he hid his face behind his hands. “You remember, the Abydos gate is buried. We can’t go there.”

“But Kasuf will unbury it in a few months when the promised one year passes,” she pointed out.

Hammond put his hand on the archaeologist shoulder and squeezed it in a fatherly manner. “We will get her, son. Apophis cannot hurt her anymore. But until then…”

Daniel took a shaky breath, and lifted his head. “Until then,” he nodded.

After a moment of silence, while everybody gathered themselves, Jack took over the conversation, and turned to the Regis. There was a question that burned him since they escaped from the Ha’taks. “Why did you save the Jaffa and the ships? You killed Apophis but Ska– Klorel is out there. You say you know everything about the Goa’uld now – you surely know that they will be back.”

“If anything, the Goa’uld want revenge,” Sam agreed.

“I would deal with the Goa’uld but not without speaking with them. Apophis refused to back down, however the Jaffa deserve a second chance. They are enslaved and deceived and I won’t kill them for others’ sins.”

Wow. Just wow. Jack couldn’t decide if the Regis was a true saint or just plain naïve. You couldn’t stop every time a Jaffa started to shoot at you to ask politely if they could reconsider their allegiances because their gods lied to them from the start. No, you were usually busy fighting for your life in those kind of situations. Of course Daniel could walk out in the middle of a gunfight just to try to negotiate, but Jack knew for a fact that his friend was plain naïve. He wasn’t a soldier but a professor.

Next to him Teal’c’s expression changed from the usual controlled emotionlessness to something akin to respect. Freeing his people from the Goa’uld was his true and greatest goal, and this new guy just honored all of the Jaffa by offering a second chance – something that nobody did before. Not even the people of Tau’ri, because they were too busy fighting them. Daniel told them that in the alternative universe Jack himself ordered a nuclear attack against Chulak, a planet full of slave Jaffa and their innocent families. They were as much the victims of this war as the humans, nothing more than cannon-fodder. But it was a war, and Jack knew himself – and sometimes hated himself for it – and knew that in the situation Daniel described he would have given the same order. He never considered to ask his enemy if they really wanted to fight them or just followed mindless orders. It wasn’t how wars worked.

Daniel sat up, the tiredness and misery on his face switched to curiosity at the Regis’ statement. Sam and Hammond mirrored his rising interest. Nobody with the arrogance and megalomaniac tendency of the Goa’uld would say and do something like that. The Nox valued life greatly but not enough to jump inside a raging war to try to save both parties. They just closed themselves off on their planet and minded their own business, occasionally reanimating the wounded they came across.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” inquired the archaeologist, “how can you defeat the Goa’uld? How did you do what you did on the ship?”

“Like I said, I’m a mage.”

“A mage as…” Daniel shook his head quizzically, the question hanging in the air.

The Regis didn’t answer just smiled a soft smile. Then he waved his hand around, gently caressing the air with his fingers, until suddenly, on the tip of his fingers there was water. Only a few drops of it, but then these drops melted together into a fist-sized bubble; and this ball of water behaved like there was no gravity. It grew larger and larger on the palm of the man, until it divided into two. Then these water-masses started to take up shapes; one of them formed a miniature panther, the other a wolf, their bodies made out of pure liquid. And then, if that wasn’t unbelievable enough, the two animal abruptly came to life and started to chase each other on the surface of the table. They ran in circles, never leaving any drop of water on the wood. “A mage, that is one who wields magic.”

Jack snorted. As if. Magic didn’t exist, only simple minds confused by advanced science. So this Regis guarded his technology like the snakeheads.

Hammond looked stupefied. Jack could relate; been there, done that. Teal’c remained stoic just like Jack. Sam and Daniel however had unholy sparks in their eyes. Sam poked the wolf fascinated when the kitten-sized animal ran past him. The wolf’s water-body passed through her fingers without changing the integrity of its form. Daniel was bolder, he squished the panther. His hand became wet but the puddle of water morphed into a panther again.

“Did you extract the humidity from the air with a device?” Sam voiced Jack’s own speculation.

On the table the two animals abruptly stopped running. Their water-bodies started to crystalize, little ice-flakes appeared in them until their form froze completely. Now there was a miniature panther and wolf ice sculpture on the middle of the table, their bodies beautifully carved to the last detail. Jack watched the Regis all along, wanting to catch something that indicated a piece of technology, but the man only danced his fingers through the air just like before.

“No, but I don’t expect you to understand it.”

Jack’s temper flared. “Why? Because we are primitive?” He threw his hands in the air indignantly. “First the Nox, then the Tollans and now you! Why does every advanced culture think we’re so primitive that we can’t be trusted? Is there a memo about us out there that we don’t know about?”

“No-no, you misunderstand me,” soothed the Colonel’s anger the Regis. “I meant no disrespect. You cannot possibly understand it because your world doesn’t have magic. You can’t comprehend something you never knew existed. Frankly, the absence of magic in this corner of the universe really frightens me.”

Well, crap. Their savor was lunatic. This was just great. The alleged ruler of thousands of worlds was concerned about _magic_ on Earth. Or the absence of it. He slashed up bodies, teleported himself and other things, controlled water and created ice-sculptures with a wave of his hand, and said it was all magic. Just like that.

While Jack cursed inside his mind, Daniel took up a more receptive stand.

“Sorry, but what is it you call magic?”

The Regis blinked at him, then frowned, then blinked again. “It’s… not something you can describe with words. Magic is everywhere. Magic is the core of life. It makes the soil fertile, makes water taste sweet. It helps the growing of nature, helps keeping the balance. It _is_ the balance. Magic is the thread that sews everything together, it is the dust dancing in a beam of sunlight. It should be in the earth, in the air, in you and all around you. You cannot feel it, see or touch it unless you are born with the potential.” He grimaced as a thought came to him. “Your culture is full of magic. Not the real kind, it has many misconceptions and misinterpretations, but that proves that sometime, in the past, magic existed on your planet. But somehow it had degraded until it vanished completely. And a world without magic is a dying world.”

“But that isn’t true,” pointed out Sam. “Our civilization is expanding. There are more than six billion people on Earth and the numbers are growing. The technological progress we made in the last few decades– “

“You humans are not innately magical creatures, your evolution won’t be affected by the lack of magic. Not anytime soon. But this planet is not only yours. Nature needs magic. And you will need it too when you run out of food and your world become a dust-planet. At this rate that would happen at the time of your grandchildren.”

“Mr. Regis,” cut in Hammond before Sam or Jack could involuntarily offend the man with a comment about the preposterousness of magical powers, “we would love to learn more about your culture if you would form an alliance with us against the Goa’uld System Lords.” Hammond glanced at the ice animals before meeting the Regis’ eyes. Technology or not, it was damn impressive. He really wanted an official report from SG-1 about what had happened aboard those Goa’uld motherships, as soon as possible.

The Regis looked at each of them, his face wasn’t betraying his thoughts.

“Come on,” cheered Jack, “join us! We have cookies!”

“We would be honored to fight alongside you,” added Teal’c with a respectful bow.

Finally the Regis nodded. “I will help you fight against the Goa’uld…”

Jack punched through the air in victory. Daniel and Sam seemed relieved as well.

“…but only on my terms.”

Well, nothing in the world came for free. Hammond was all business again. “Your terms?”

“Yes. First of all, you have an alliance with me, not with my imperium. I won’t involve my people in this war – before there can be an alliance between our worlds this war has to end. I will help you with that.”

Jack rubbed his ear. Maybe he wasn’t hearing clearly.

“You want to fight the Goa’uld alone?” Daniel had a hard time believing it, too.

“Yes.”

“But the Goa’uld have armies and big ships. Lots of big ships,” Jack reasoned while trying to express the size of the Ha’taks with his spread arms.

“The System Lords have control over numerous planets,” agreed Teal’c.

“Your world clearly has a superior technology,” Sam joined in. “If you would share some with us, we could make some weapon– “

“No,” interrupted the Regis with an annoyed expression. “As I said, I will fight alone. I will do everything I can to liberate all the worlds from under the Goa’uld’s rule. I offer my protection and help for the time being. When there’s no more threat we can negotiate more.”

“Sounds reasonable,” acknowledged Hammond. They had the help and alliance of someone who stopped two Goa’uld motherships, possessed some freakish technology and was willing to lend a hand to them and others. For the time being it was enough. For anything more he needed to consult with the President, anyway.

Jack wasn’t convinced. “I’m sorry, I just really want to point out the fact, just so it would be clear, that the Goa’uld controls half this galaxy – and you are just one person.”

“Yet I control a total of four galaxies.” The Regis flashed a toothy grin at him, giving a full view at his carnivorous fangs and sharp teeth. For the second time Jack had the distant feeling that their new ally wasn’t completely human – he looked more like a predator that caught its prey and decided to play with it a little more. “I think I can handle myself.”

“Also,” he went on, “anytime you encounter a conflict between worlds or have a problem with the Goa’uld, you should call me. I will help you anytime, anywhere.” He placed a small ring on the table. Again, Jack noted, the Regis didn’t took the ring out from his pockets and it definitely wasn’t in his hand before. The thing just appeared out of nowhere like the sword and the man himself. “This ring is made out of a special crystal. If you activate it, it will resonate with mine, and I will know you are calling for me.”

Daniel was the first who reached for the alien ring. It was a simple, slim ring without any markings on it.

“So, one ring to rule them all,” he muttered while flipping and examining it. It didn’t seem special. He glanced back at the Regis’ hand, noticing his various rings. All of them were unique; they weren’t big or fancy, didn’t have colorful stones or anything, but more than one were made in the shape of an animal, like a panther, an owl or a dolphin. One of them was especially detailed and skillfully crafted. The ring on his right middle finger looked like a tiny living snake with metal-scales, which was wrapped around his digit in two loops, and was now sleeping peacefully. Daniel couldn’t help but to marvel at advanced craftsmanship of the Regis’ homeworld. However he didn’t see any rings on the man’s fingers similar to the crystal-ring. Where was his then?

The Regis, noticing the question on the archaeologist’s face, touched his left ear, directing everybody’s sight to a plain ear cuff on his upper lobe, which was made out of the same material. “Mine is here.”

“And how do you activate it?” asked Jack skeptically.

“Simply put it on. The crystal is special,” the Regis explained. “It takes on the distinctive vibration of this planet, thus when it resonates with mine I know where to come.”

“Amazing,” marveled Sam.

“Captain, do you understand this?” asked Hammond with arched eyebrows.

“Well, sir, Einstein theorized that mass itself is also a form of energy.” Sam was really into expounding on this; her eyes were practically shining. “All energy can present itself in many ways, for example vibration. It has its own frequency, wavelength and amplitude. Also, it’s capable of resonating with something of the same frequency…

“A-a!” Jack, who as always, didn’t get a single word from this science mumbo-jumbo, stopped her with a raised finger. “In English!”

Sam closed her mouth. “Sorry, sir. The point is, every mineral has an individual crystal lattice, as in a unique arrangement of atoms and molecules. Due to this every crystal structure has its own pattern of vibration. The crystal-based technology of the Goa’uld and also the Stargate’s DHD are built on this vibrancy. It’s not impossible that the hard, crystallized core of a planet, or the overall minerals in the crust of a rocky planet like Earth, gave off a strong, distinct vibration, which can be used to identify said planet.”

“Like the music of the spheres!” Daniel had an ‘a-ha’ moment.

“So, the point is,” Jack summarized, “that it’s all fine and dandy, but we have an Iris. If you want to come here you need a code. Right, sir?” He turned to the General, who nodded.

“Yes. I need to consult with the Chief of Staff– “

“No need, I don’t use the Stargate. I have other methods to travel.”

“Ooo~kay.” Jack’s eyebrows reached his hairline. “What does that mean?”

The Regis politely smiled at him but didn’t answer. Daniel quickly took this chance to divert the topic before the Colonel decided to strangle more information out of the man. He knew the inability of gathering superior technology as the military’s primary objective dictated, was a sore spot for his friend.

“Um, so… In your home-galaxy you don’t have Stargates?” That was actually a very interesting question. It came with many implications and Daniel could see the calculated glint in Sam’s, Hammond’s and even in Jack’s eyes.

The Regis tilted his head slightly to one side, again. Jack began to suspect that it was a reflex when the man was interested but a little confused. Dogs often did the same thing when he grumbled about the hardship of human life to them. “You know,” the Regis replied ponderingly, “this is the first time I came across this type of transportation. I think the Stargate system is exclusive in this galaxy.”

“Wow,” Sam was enthusiastic again. “That means you have spaceships, yes?”

“That, too.” The smile the Regis gave her was more warm and friendly then before. “We have our ways.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Jack grunted under his breath. The guy was so freaking mystical, magic and everything. Without doubt he was a great ally against the Goa’uld, but he kept his cards close to his chest.

Hammond sensed that this was as much an end to their negotiations as it got. “Mr. Regis,” the General stood up, signaling to the others that this conversation was over. “Thank you again for helping us.” There was no point interrogating the man any further. The basis of their partnership was laid down, he offered help and a way to communicate – frankly, this was much more than any other of their friends with advanced technology did for them. Not that Hammond blamed them, obviously they had their share of problems. But it was a nice change to meet somebody outside of their little corner of the universe, and who saw the Goa’ulds as dangerous threats and was willing to land a hand. “I hope this could be a beginning of a promising friendship.”

“I hope, too,” replied the Regis. He also stood up and hung his sword back to his belt, ready to leave.

“If…” Everybody looked at Daniel who spoke up tentatively. “If you want to know more about the history of this galaxy, you should visit P3X-972. I mean, Heliopolis.”

Jack glared at him. “Daniel– “ he started his reprimanding about sharing classified information, but the archaeologist only glared back.

“Jack, we can’t reach it via Stargate but maybe he can. It could help him.”

Sam agreed, and after Hammond’s approval she gave the man the exact coordinates. “A storm destroyed the place where the Stargate stood,” she added, “but in the building there was a lower room with a device that had information.”

“The combined knowledge of the Alliance of the Four Races,” Daniel explained.

The Regis thanked them and bowed. Daniel, Teal’c and even Sam returned the motion while Jack only sunk his hands inside his pockets and balanced on the ball of his feet. Hammond gestured towards the door.

“We can escort you to any destination you want through the Stargate,” he offered.

“Thank you, but it’s not necessary,” declined the Regis. He looked at them one final time, then in a blink of an eye he was gone. He disappeared from the middle of the room, suddenly and inexplicably just like how he emerged in their life, mere hours ago.

If this teleportation-thingy was his so called way of travel, then Jack thought he could never get used to it.

However, all in all, maybe it wasn’t really such a bad day.

 

Several billion light-years away a man appeared at the grim, wet, lifeless planet. He stood on the edge of the high coast, the cliffs reaching deep down beneath him like a massive wall. At its root the ocean feverously assaulted the rocks with wrathful waves, smoothing and burnishing the dark stones. The sharp wind carried the salty spray of seawater and the smell of rain. It wouldn’t take long for the tempest to break out. On the sky the murky storm clouds filtered the light of the planet’s white dwarf sun, enveloping the shore in an eternal dusk.

There was no green on this world, only grayness.

The Regis looked around. He was at the right coordinates, but where was the ruined building Daniel and Sam talked about? He closed his eyes and simply _felt_ the world around him.

There! Nearly two hundred kilometers on his right there was something made from the same mineral he had temporarily in his system. Naquadah. That had to be the sunk Stargate, which meant that the so called device should be near it.

The Regis turned and headed towards the ruins of the ancient castle at the seashore, which was once the central of this galaxy, just when it started to drizzle around him.

This was a lovely day for a walk on the beach, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write a full description of the Regis’ clothes, but here’s a link to a drawing. I’m not a good drawer, sorry, but maybe it will make easier to imagine it: http://bereshit001.tumblr.com/post/130138097392/regis  
> I mentioned Sha’re and her whereabouts, and for avoiding having Daniel running straight to Abydos I had to change some facts. Or more precisely, I remained true to the facts they established in the first season, and seemed to forget at the second. But I will talk about it in more detail in the ‘S02E09 Secrets’ chapter (if I ever get there).  
> In the TV-show they never really discuss the technology of the Ancients and the Goa’uld, but there are always crystal-like plates which they place from one cell to another (and that always solves everything). Our world with Mirarwa also has an advanced technology that’s based on the crystals’ unique frequency and resonance. Therefore I will merge the two, mostly using our rules. (Furthermore, these crystals due to their structures can contain pure energy – at this point I have to say that magic is a type of energy).  
> Also, the Goa’uld word for “beloved” I made up after browsing through the wikia page’s own Goa’uld dictionary.  
> If anybody wonders how the Regis made water out of thin air, just watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender episode ‘S03E08 The Puppetmaster.’ :)


	2. S02E02 In The Line Of Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank you, dear reader, if you thought this story deserves a second chance after the first chapter. I try to write this the way that the Regis won’t turn up in every corner, because this show is about the SG-1 and nobody will outshine them. However, if there is no Regis then the chapters will be exactly like the episodes and that’s just boring and meaningless. I’m really trying to find a middle way and I hope I could improve in time. It will be a slow build-up until I reach the more thrilling parts, but I have many ideas for this fanfic. Again, thanks for reading. If you have any constructive criticism or any comments, I would love to hear it so I can learn from it.  
> As I said, this is (and also many of the following chapters will be) basically a recap of the episode with some changes – therefore some of the conversations are actual quotes from the TV-show, I don’t own those words.

Jack absentmindedly toyed with the crystal-ring between his fingers. The accessory, which was given to them by the Regis weeks ago, was made out of some kind of mineral and he’d bet it wasn’t a sort you could find on Earth. Its color was deep grey with a hue of blue in it, and its surface was polished to a level that you could almost see your reflection on it. Carter ran a dozen of tests and found nothing unusual – no EMP readings nor strange energy emission, certainly nothing that classified as magic. On the other hand, the definition of magic was a force that you could not detect or measure by conventional methods. Of course if you believed in magic. Which Jack totally didn’t. Fancy teleportation and water-controlling abilities could not deter him from his strong beliefs. Even Grandma O’Neill had preached against magic when he was only a boy. There’s no such thing as magic, she had always said, just the miracles of our Lord.

On second thought, maybe Grandma O’Neill’s wisdom wasn’t a reliable source in this kind of situation. Or any other kind of situations except the emergencies in the kitchen. Grandma O’Neill was a terrific cook, positively deadly with a wooden spoon, but she would have fainted from the idea of interplanetary travel and alien species.

The invisibility powers of the Nox also seemed like magic but they had never denied that it was some kind of advanced technology. They had a flying city for crying out loud!

Whatever was the secret of this Regis, he had saved them. Jack still had many questions about him, but anybody who could kick the snakeheads in the ass won an invitation to his monthly poker game nights. He would be stupid to pass on a friendship with someone who could single-handedly neutralize two Goa’uld motherships.

They haven’t heard from the guy ever since their brief negotiation but he said if they needed help, if there was a conflict between worlds or a Goa’uld threat, they should call him. Simply put the ring on one’s finger and he will appear.

It was time to put the thing to the test.

It all started with their morning mission to P3X-382, the homeplanet of the Nasyans. It was nothing but sunshine: little fieldtrip to the locals, fishing in the lake, negotiating about setting up a research outpost, and fighting against Goa’uld Death Gliders. The usual drill. They evacuated all the Nasyans they could (a little more than two hundred), treated the wounded, but they couldn’t house extraterrestrial refugees. They needed a place to relocate the Nasyans. A safe world where they could live in peace, outside of the Goa’uld’s reach. If the Regis truly meant that he would help anybody in need, then it was a perfect opportunity for him. Maybe one of his four thousands and something-something worlds could receive the peaceful and good-natured Nasyans.

Hammond nodded encouragingly and Jack took a deep breath. He slipped the ring on his fourth finger – it was a little small so he only pulled it down to his middle phalanx. Then braced himself.

No pain, not even a tingle. His finger and hand remained attached to his body. The earth didn’t explode. Jack allowed himself a sigh of relief. Then he yelped, very unladylike, because the Regis was right next to him and for God’s sake, he wasn’t there a moment ago! Grandma O’Neill would have disowned him if she had heard the curses Jack was thinking. Out loud.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” deadpanned the Regis. Jack took off the damned ring and shoved it into the top drawer of Hammond’s desk. The General looked at him like Grandma O’Neill’s ghost possessed him and wanted to murder him with a wooden spoon. Jack knew he should save what can be saved in this delicate diplomatic situation. Apologize, maybe.

“Next time could you signal somehow before you appear? Or just teleport a little further from me?” Hammond should have really known by now that he wasn’t a guy keen on diplomacy. “Please,” he added because if anything he was polite with intergalactic emperors.

Hammond mentally sighed in a hopeless manner, then quickly stepped in before the Colonel could do more harm. “Mr. Regis, thank you for coming. We have a situation you may be able to help with.” The General briefly retold the events on Nasya and the position the survivors were in. “We hoped you can provide a safe world for them,” he finished. The Regis listened to the tale with a stern face; probably angered by the deeds of the Goa’uld, Jack strongly suspected. However the General’s request surprised the guy.

“Yes, of course I can do that.” He bowed. “Thanks for calling me.”

That change of tone startled Jack. Why did the guy seem like he didn’t expected them to uphold their part of the deal? Did he have trust issues?

There was a knock on the office door and Sergeant Davis asked permission to enter. She was looking for Jack about an urgent call.

He took the phone on the desk, the call redirected to Hammond’s office. It was Dr. Fraiser; there was something wrong with Cassandra. Jack’s stomach suddenly dropped.

“Sorry, sir,” he turned to the General. “There’s an emergency at the hospital.”

Hammond understood. He always understood. “All right Colonel, dismissed.”

Jack nodded and started to walk out with hurried steps, but the Regis stopped him.

“If you go to the Air Force hospital then I would like to come, too. I want to meet with the Nasyans.”

It was a reasonable request, however… should they really allow and alien to waltz in an Air Force Academy? Even Teal’c was confined for weeks before he could go to the surface of Earth – and his first time in the city was due to an emergency mission. (A memory Jack really didn’t want to think about. Oh God, Cassandra was at the same age Charlie would have been…)

The Regis seemed to understand his concerns. “You do realize I can speak your language because I traveled your planet for months. Believe me, if I wanted to cause harm or learn some top-notch secrets, I would have already done that.”

Again, reasonable argument.

“It’s ‘top secrets,’” murmured Jack defiantly. That wasn’t really a relevant point in this discussion, but Jack felt childishly triumphant just knowing one little thing better than their all-powerful ally. One small step for mankind, one giant leap for a man.

Nevertheless the decision was not up to him. He looked at Hammond who seemed to consider the options then gave them permission with a nod. _It’s going to be a fun ride_ , Jack mused as he exited the office with the Regis in his tow.

Well, the ride to the hospital was anything but fun. The Regis was apathetic the whole time, staring out of the car window impassively. He wasn’t wide-eyed, didn’t marvel at the scenery, and didn’t question the moving car or other wonders of Earth. Even Teal’c was more curious and intense the first time he gave him a tour. Traveling with an alien who already knew everything about their culture was boring.

Janet was waiting for them when they arrived. Jack ordered an Airman to escort the Regis to the wing where the Nasyans were accommodated, then their fearsome lady doctor spirited him away.

And that was the moment the nightmare started.

Sam was a Goa’uld.

Sam was a freaking Goa’uld!

Jack was furious and terrified at the same time. How the hell could this happen!? Okay, they figured out how did it happen – through that dying Nasyan man Carter was giving CPR – but it wasn’t supposed to happen! Not after Kawalsky…! Jack shook his head. He wouldn’t think about that. They wouldn’t fail this time. Not an option.

They had subdued the symbiote possessing Carter when it desperately wanted to cross the Stargate. That was a bad and stupid move from it. Sam was sitting behind bars now, her face obscured by shadows, her arms protectively crossed before her. She was giving him the silent treatment. It was fine. Jack didn’t know what to say himself. He just wished this was all a bad dream.

After the revelation Daniel went back to the hospital to talk to the Nasyans about the Goa’uld. How had a snakehead been able to pose as one of them without raising suspicion? Why was a Goa’uld there in the first place? What did it want? Too many questions. Teal’c presumed sabotage and was currently searching the whole base for something destructive. Jack went with the guess of espionage, although Sam’s actions contradicted it. Why did she want to run? There was more to this story Jack was sure, he just needed to get answers. But right now this silence was good.

 

Daniel tracked down the dead Nasyan who was the previous host of the Goa’uld. His name was Quinta, and he had a wife who luckily survived the attack. She was at room G44, the place where he headed right now.

Quinta’s wife was awake and out of bed. She was looking out of the big windows, lost in the scenery of the green park outside. When Daniel entered she turned and the archaeologist stopped in mid-step; her eyes were red with sorrow and she hugged herself with bandaged arms. Daniel felt like he trespassed on her privacy. Obviously the woman was scared, mourning, and was made more vulnerable by the alien surroundings, so far from her home.

“Excuse me.” That was the only thing he could say. The woman turned her head to hide her tears before collecting herself.

“Your world is an amazing place,” she remarked with a little shaky but strong voice. Daniel was glad for the change of topic.

“It can be,” he answered with a small smile. “Um, I’m… I’m Daniel.”

“You’re one of the men responsible for saving us.” She returned the smile, finally sounding a bit more cheerful. And surprised.

“Yeah.” Why did nobody assume that he could be heroic? Was it the glasses?

“We owe you great thanks.” Her gratitude was genuine and eased the tension in Daniel. “We are really grateful for you and your friend, the Regis. He said we could go home soon, and he would protect us from the Goa’uld. He said he protected your world once, too. Is it true?”

Daniel frowned concernedly. He heard that Jack and Hammond asked for the Regis’ help and he had been here to meet with the Nasyans, only he left hours ago. He had said he would take care of the Nasyans and Daniel assumed the galactic ruler would relocate these people to a safer planet. Although, as Daniel though about it, going back to their homeworld made sense. Why would they want to leave their land? It was their home. Maybe the Regis would also give them a crystal-ring to summon him when the System Lords attack again. The man really did appear when they called him and possessed the power to ward off the Goa’uld. It was the same thing the Asgard did on Cimmeria. The only difference was that they could communicate with the Regis anytime they wanted while they didn’t know how to reach Thor.

Truth to be told, Daniel considered calling the Regis for help with Sam. The man could somehow separate the symbiote from the host body – then again, Apophis’ host didn’t survive this. Or maybe Jack already thought about it and was discussing their options with the Regis at the base right now.

He should really focus on the task of discovering the motives of the Goa’uld in Sam, Daniel reprimanded himself. They could deal with other things later when they had all the cards in their hand.

“Yes, it’s true,” he replied, then stopped and licked his lips. He didn’t look forward to this conversation. “Could we, uh… Could we talk a minute?”

He showed the picture of Quinta to the woman – Talia – for confirmation. As they suspected the Goa’uld infiltrated the Nasyan man through the back of his neck months ago. The strange part was that the Goa’uld had not come forward the whole time. Quinta had been behaving the same way as always according to Talia. That really didn’t make any sense.

Daniel eventually left the grieving woman; he didn’t want to disturb her more.

 

Sam finally spoke. Jack wished she didn’t. She… the Goa’uld demanded to let her go. That wasn’t anything new. It also promised to leave Sam’s body and look for another host. _That_ was new. It sounded so damn good; a shame he couldn’t trust the snakehead. He refused and then… and then it was the real Sam who spoke to him. She sounded frightened and desperate. She begged to believe her, to let her go. Jack couldn’t take it. He escaped from the holding cell and he hated himself for it. But he couldn’t trust Carter. Not when a Goa’uld was inside her head.

And it wasn’t the worst thing. As it turned out, another Goa’uld made it through the Stargate with the Nasyans. Some Ashrak, an assassin, who was there to kill the snakehead in Sam – pardon, the name was Jolinar of Malkshur. Or so the parasite in Carter told them. And thus there was a second homicidal Goa’uld on the loose on Earth. Joy, oh joy.

The Tok’ra thing was another business. Jolinar claimed that she wasn’t a Goa’uld but a Tok’ra – a resistance group opposing the System Lords. Teal’c could confirm this. He sounded convinced that Jolinar wasn’t an enemy. The fact that no sabotage was found and that Sa– Jolinar didn’t try to kill anybody aside from her desperate threat with a handgrenade in the Gate Room supported this.

And then Daniel went and made himself switch sides, too. Damn this Jolinar for knowing exactly what to say! When she realized that Sha’re’s whereabouts was no longer a bargaining chip, she offered a ship, an alternative way to Abydos. Now Daniel was also convinced that Jolinar could be an ally. Jack hated it. He could never, never trust a Goa’uld!

They were in the middle of a heated argument when Hammond was informed that the first group of Nasyans arrived to the base for relocation. Jack honestly forgot about all that. Yeah, the Regis promised to protect the Nasya world and help the locals rebuild their home. The hospital released the first group of Nasyan natives who were healthy enough to travel. The badly burned ones would remain for another month.

While Jack managed the Goa’uld problem Hammond organized the transfer of the Nasyans with the Regis. The guy would be at the other side of the gate waiting for the survivors to arrive. Jack didn’t know the details – his attention was more on Carter than on the refugees – but was sure the Nasyans will be in good hands. If they knew anything about the Regis, it was that his dedication for others was genuine.

Their debate about the release of Jolinar was temporarily put off and Daniel hurried to welcome the Nasyans, and escort them to the Embarkation Room, while the rest of them went to the Control Room to observe. Of course, nothing could go smoothly in this base. Murphy lurked in every corner. Jack didn’t know how, but the Ashrak got inside the mountain without sounding any alarm. One of the drivers who transported the Nasyans to the base reported that he couldn’t remember how he drove here. It was a small thing but with all the fancy devices a Goa’uld could possess, this was a telltale. When they checked the holding cell’s camera, it was already disabled. So Jack ran as hard as he could with Teal’c at his side, and prayed for one of Grandma O’Neill’s miracles. Please let Sam be alright, let them be in time!

They didn’t make it in time. Sam was dying.

They carried her to the infirmary, and Dr. Fraiser fought hard to keep her alive. Jack knew he could do nothing more so he stepped back, out of the way of the doctors. But he refused to leave. He wouldn’t abandon Sam. He would be here until the Captain’s fully recovered. She was a fighter, she would be alright. Had to be alright.

They watched the EEG monitors, the different brainwaves of Jolinar and Sam, watched as the Goa’uld was slowly dying and taking Sam with her. Jack never felt so useless in his life. Then the alarms went off; the Ashrak was at the Embarkation Room. He signaled Teal’c to go and the Jaffa hurried out. Jack didn’t move. His place was here with Carter and he wouldn’t move for the world. This, here and now, was more important.

 

“Oh, jeez.”

Daniel was not amused. Another maniac took him hostage. Again. It was because his glasses, wasn’t it. Many cultures on Earth considered the glasses a sign of intelligence, it was even a trend, but an extraterrestrial being maybe saw it as a weakness. He had bad eyesight therefore he was an easy target, it had to be that.

The man behind him posing as a soldier was in all probability the Ashrak. An assassin Goa’uld who used him as a human shield and held a gun to his neck. A gun which in all likelihood was a weapon he had never saw and used before this day. Scratch the homicidal tendency, what actually made Daniel nervous was the amateurish way the man held that gun.

He just said goodbye to Talia, the last of the Nasyans, and assured her that everything will be alright, when the soldiers arrived. The Stargate closed after Talia and the Ashrak panicked. He wanted out of here and in his arrogance thought he could make it with a little threat.

“They won’t let you go,” stated Daniel. There was no way Hammond would dial the Stargate again.

“Silence!” barked the Ashrak in his deep, doubled voice as he slowly backed away from the armed Airmen. “Open the Stargate,” he demanded again and shot at the Control Room’s window in frustration. The bullet missed Hammond who looked at them with wide eyes, starting to get truly pissed off.

They arrived at a stalemate, the Goa’uld had to know that. Daniel just hoped his trigger finger won’t twitch.

Suddenly someone grabbed the Ashrak’s collar from behind and yanked him back. It happened so quickly and forcefully that the gun fell out of the Goa’uld’s hand harmlessly. Daniel tumbled forward on the metal ramp while the Ashrak flew backward with a grunt.

Teal’c arrived at that moment with a Zat’nik’tel ready to fire, but it wasn’t necessary anymore. The Jaffa sized up the situation, lowered his weapon and helped the tousled archaeologist up.

“Are you injured?”

Daniel massaged his intact neck as he stood up. Aside from his pride? “I don’t think so. Thanks.” Now he just needed to figure out what the hell happened.

“Talia said there was a Goa’uld in one of your people.” The voice was familiar, unexpected but very well welcomed. Daniel turned around with strange curiosity to see the speaker behind him.

The Ashrak lay on his back on the ramp, his hands open in surrender. The Regis stood next to him with one leg on the Goa’uld’s chest, forcing him to the ground. His black sword was in his left hand, its tip gently pressing on the soft skin of the assassin’s throat. “Is it this one?”

“Sort of,” answered Daniel. “There’s a Goa’uld in Sam, but we think it’s, uh… friendly. This one is an Ashrak, an assassin Goa’uld sent to kill Jolinar. Ah, the Goa’uld in Sam,” he added for clarification.

“Then who is he?” The Regis question was directed to the man in the soldier’s uniform not the parasite inside.

“One of the Nasyans,” Teal’c offered. The Regis nodded and stepped back. He let the Ashrak go and sheathed his sword. Of course the Goa’uld instantly took advantage of it and moved to attack – instead he fell to his knees, coughing. Just like in Apophis’ case, the symbiote was suddenly in the Regis’ left hand, hissing furiously. The freed Nasyan man collapsed to the ground lifelessly, and Daniel was next to him in an instant, checking his pulse. It was weak but there was one. The man was breathing – he was alive. Daniel could only stare in disbelief.

“How did you do that?”

“If the Goa’uld and the host weren’t together for long then I can get the symbiote out of the body safely. The longer the Goa’uld and the host are together the more they merge until they become one symbiotic entity. At that point even I couldn’t remove the Goa’uld by force. This man was a host only for a few days – Apophis was for thousands of years.”

Daniel couldn’t believe his ears. That meant there was hope for Sha’re! He didn’t know what the time limit for this safe separation was, but it was a ray of hope nonetheless.

The Nasyan man seemed weak, an aftereffect of the violent separation, but aside from that he was intact. Someone must have ordered a medical team because a doctor with a stretcher showed up and ordered the soldiers to help him carry the patient. Hammond also came down to the Gate Room and looked like he was in high spirits.

“Dr. Fraiser called,” the General reported. “Captain Carter is alive. The Goa’uld inside her died and apparently saved her life.”

Teal’c acknowledged this with a silent bow. Daniel didn’t know what to think. He was relieved that Sam survived but couldn’t help the strong feeling of disappointment and anger about Jolinar’s death. The Tok’ra was his first real chance of reaching Sha’re. The date of unburying the Abydos’ Stargate was months away and he wanted to be there, with his wife, as soon as possible. He couldn’t help the stifling feeling that they were running out of time.

Then he took a deep breath. They would reach Sha’re some way or another. Right now the most important thing was that Sam lived.

The Regis nodded to the general. “Then I will deal with this one.” He raised his hand with the Goa’uld symbiote still in his grip. “Please take care of the Nasyans. I will check on them next month to see if they’re well enough to go home.” And without waiting for a reply he vanished.

Jack was right, this teleportation was freakish.

After Hammond barked some orders at the soldiers they went to follow the medical team which carried the fainted Nasyan to the infirmary. As they walked through the hallway Daniel finally took notice of the Zat in Teal’c’s hand. “I hope you didn’t plan to shot me with that.”

The Jaffa remained silent the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s one thing I need to explain in this episode/chapter (chapisode?). In the show they didn’t say who the host body of the Ashrak was. He was among the badly wounded but he didn’t have the face tattoos we see on many Nasyans. They say an Ashrak is an assassin – assassins usually work alone in silence, however in Nasya there was a whole fleet of Death Gliders. So why would there be an open attack when there was already an Ashrak among the Nasyans? I thought about it and concluded that the carpet bombing and the Ashrak’s infiltration was two different things – maybe there was two separate System Lords who found and wanted to kill Jolinar – and that’s the reason why the Ashrak himself was caught in the crossfire and was wounded. With this logic the Ashrak needed to be an ordinary Nasyan just like Jolinar had been, to be able to mingle with the locals.  
> When I re-watched the third season I realized that the Regis basically took the place of the Asgard. Because SGC knows nearly nothing about Thor, except that he is part of an advanced species who can fight off the Goa’uld and who protect other words. They seem friendly. And that’s it. Yet Jack truly loves the Asgard, he trusts them from the first moment, and constantly nags Thor to help them. So I don’t think it is out of character that SGC is keen on calling the Regis every time they need an extra hand with a problem which is really out of their league.


	3. S02E03 Prisoners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode happens the same way as in the TV-show. No changes. SG-1 handled the situation the best they could and there was no reason for anybody to call the Regis. Therefore my character won’t turn up here. If you remember this episode then you can skip this chapter (it’s basically just a summary), but if you don’t, then feel free to read it. In the long run all the episodes will be important.

The things he did for his people, indeed.

Hammond expected his first ride through the Stargate to be some kind of vacation. To see something so amazing the SG teams would say he couldn’t miss it. Or didn’t go through the gate at all. Hammond was in charge of the whole Stargate operation but it didn’t mean he had to like the idea of interplanetary travel. He was too old for this.

This time it wasn’t an option. SG-1 disappeared on P3X-775 and as it turned out, the local judicial body, the Taldor convicted them. Life imprisonment, because they unknowingly abetted a criminal. This was all a mistake, Hammond was sure of it. They just needed a stronger hand in the negotiation to clear this out. Hammond took full responsibility for all of his teams’ actions. He wanted to handle this personally. They needed friends out there, not new enemies.

He was standing in the middle of a dark room with Major Kovaceck at his side. It was the Tal’al, the room where the accused were transported, or the leader of SG-9 said so. There was a beam of blindingly white light illuminating the two of them, and Hammond couldn’t see a damn thing outside their circle. The Taldor was not just xenophobic but also cowardly hid themselves from the people they were judging. Hammond began to like them less with every passing minute.

“You are most punctual,” said a feminine voice. The General franticly looked around to see the face of the speaker, but to no avail.

“Thank you.” Kovaceck was polite and cautious just like a true diplomat. Maybe Hammond should have assigned him to SG-1 just to have somebody there to amend the mess O’Neill usually made. Dr. Jackson was a good start but he wasn’t forceful enough to stop the Colonel before making a diplomatic suicide. For O’Neill, his men’s well-being was more important than manners. It was his best and worst quality at the same time.

“You are General Hammond?” asked a male voice this time.

“Yes,” he answered, desperately searching for anybody he could direct his words to. Talking to formless voices was… well, not the definition of fair negotiation. “I am responsible for those people you have in prison.”

“By using the word ‘responsible,’” added Kovaceck hastily, “the General is in no way assuming accountability for the actions of SG-1.” Hammond looked at him unbelievingly. This wasn’t caution anymore but nit-picking and a huge waste of time. The man seemed to notice the distaste in the General’s eyes. “Begging your pardon, sir. I don’t want you to end up in prison, too.”

“On the contrary,” Hammond spoke up. “I would gladly hold myself responsible. I ordered them to this world in the first place.”

“Is this an admission of guilt?” The female voice again. How many of them were hiding in the shadows?

“No,” Kovaceck rashly cut in.

“Yes, it is,” Hammond contradicted it indignantly. He glared at the Major to shut up. When they would be back at SGC he would deal with Kovaceck and his tendency to speak in his stead, he promised himself. But right now they had a more pressing situation; one that Hammond was hell bent on correcting. “As a matter of fact, if you would allow me to take the place of SG-1– “

The male voice interrupted him. “You ordered them to aid a murderer?”

What? “No.”

“Then you’re not guilty,” declared the female.

“Not guilty,” agreed the male.

“Assumption of guilt by proxy is rejected.”

This was unbelievable. This was not happening! Hammond started to get annoyed. Were these people blind? Were they really this narrow-minded and self-centered to not see what they were doing!? Hammond had enough, polite and cautious diplomacy be damned.

“If my people are not released, the imprisonment of the members of SG-1 will be considered a hostile act. Peaceful relations between our two worlds will end…” he dared them, he double dared them, “…right here, right now.”

“Our law is immutable,” was the nonchalant answer.

“Your law is unjust!” he snapped. This negotiation started to really spiral out of control.

“Sir, I’m not sure if–” started Kovaceck alertly but Hammond ignored him.

“What’s it going to be?” He gave the ultimatum.

“Release is impossible.” The female’s voice sounded serene, a complete opposite of Hammond’s flaring temper.

“Why?” he demanded angrily.

“There are no returns from Hadante,” said the male. His statement sounded final. Hammond, unbelieving and a little panicking, looked at Kovaceck who was as helpless and lost as he was. “For anyone.”

The lights went out.

 

How the hell got things so out of hand?

Jack stared out of the Control Room’s window while Sergeant Davis and Carter tried to override the self-destruction sequence and shut the gate down. Outside at the Embarkation Room Linea stood on the ramp before the open Stargate, looking back at them in silence.

She seemed so harmless at first glance. A wise and clever old woman unjustifiably convicted to life imprisonment on Hadante. Something to do with a sickness and a cure gone wrong. Jack could relate – they were sent to prison by the Taldor for a misunderstanding, too. Talking about zero tolerance, no kidding.

They sure would have been in big trouble if not for Linea, who seemed to be on the top of the food-chain in Hadante. She was the smartest of the inmates that was for sure. She had held herself well in the prison-planet and that fact automatically won Jack’s respect.

She and Sam got along almost immediately; two great minds always find each other or something like that. Jack just let the Captain do the planning and Teal’c do the intimidating while he looked out for Daniel, who had obviously never been in prison. He was too friendly and oblivious and that would get him killed in a place like Hadante.

As a matter of fact, it did really almost get him killed. How or why the big, smelly guy, Vishnoor dropped dead after choking Danny near death was a mystery, but Jack was not one to pass on a lucky coincidence. A lucky, perfect, miraculous coincidence, which, if truly was a coincidence, then Jack would eat his hat. But nevermind that, they got out fine thanks to Linea’s organic power source. They wrapped that moss-like plant around the rim of the gate and dialed manually just like on Ernest Littlefield’s planet. Sam was fawning all over that herb that could create power by cold fusion. She was like a child at Christmas, looking forward to do research with Linea.

Then SG-3 brought back the blind-then-not-blind guy, Hadante’s newest prisoner who apparently hitched a ride with them when they escaped through the Stargate. Good for him. Not so good for them.

The guy told them the real story of the sickness on their homeworld and Linea’s part in it. It wasn’t a misunderstanding; she wasn’t an innocent old lady. She had created the disease and spread it; she had killed half of the P3X-775 world’s population. She was responsible. She was the Destroyer of Worlds.

And she was currently looking at them from the Gate Room after reprogramming their whole computer system. She screwed them over big time. Jack watched helplessly as Linea simply walked through the Stargate and disappeared. The gate closed after her, and the self-destruct countdown reached ten.

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Sam fumed. She was powerless to change anything, to stop the countdown. Linea deleted all their codes. There wasn’t any time left – not to run, nor to save anybody. The countdown reached one. Jack had not imagined his death like this, but could do naught only brace himself for the inevitable.

Nothing happened.

“Standing by,” said Sergeant Davis hesitantly. Sam frowned while Teal’c just looked around checking if everything was intact, and Daniel sighed in relief and murmured a prayer of thanks. Jack was beyond furious and could only think about catching that she-witch and kicking her butt back to prison.

“Redial those coordinates,” he ordered and then asked permission from Hammond to go after Linea, just when abruptly all the power went out. The entire system crashed. Only one computer remained operational; its white monitor illuminated the room. On it a message typed out:

‘Thank you for your kindness. All debts have now been paid.’

 “We let her out,” stated Sam, the terrible realization apparent in her voice and on her face.

“The Destroyer of Worlds,” added Daniel with the same dread. Nobody said anything to that. Nobody _could_ say anything. They freed a psychopathic mass murderer who now knew everything about gate-travel. They could only stare at the words on the monitor and the powered-down Stargate.

Then, at last, Teal’c’s solemn voice broke the spell. “It would be wise to warn the Regis about her.”

In this Jack agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this episode was an absurdity (and that was a euphemism). Linea was undoubtedly a genius at science but she had never even seen a computer in her life! Sam showed her how to use the keyboard and some programs – how the hell could she reprogram the entire system of SGC!? She would have to be a pro hacker to do that but Linea could not know about the binary system of coding! She was a chemist/biologist not an IT guy and the TV-show clearly stated that the terminology of Earth’s science and Linea’s was different – she didn’t even know about atoms just the base idea of them! Thus hacking the computer system of an American military base is simply impossible for her.  
> This is my personal opinion, however I didn’t change anything in this chapter because these logical nonsenses make SG-1 a B-category series and I won’t fault that. Sometimes you need illogical and inconsistent things to make the storyline you want to write happen. This is the fault of all the writers so let the one without sin throw the first stone…


	4. S02E04 The Gamekeeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the same as the previous chapter. The SG-1 didn’t have the chance to call for help.  
> This chapter is short – it’s a little bit disappointing, I know and I’m sorry – because nothing really happened in this episode except the reveal of some (totally unimportant) background info of Jack and Daniel.

“Do you think we should go back, sir?” inquired Jack cautiously. He was pretty sure they were in the real SGC, sitting in the real Briefing Room and talking to the real General Hammond, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The virtual reality those machines on P7J-989 created looked damn convincing, too. Only the unusual command of Hammond, the Keeper posing as Hammond, that is, had tipped Jack off last time that something was not right.

The General stared at him quizzically. “What are you talking about, Colonel? You just came back.” All SG-1 members around the conference table visibly relaxed. Hammond looked at them, puzzled by their reaction. “What happened?”

“Pardon us, sir,” Sam apologized. “The machines in the dome we described earlier–“

“The ones we got trapped in,” Jack chipped in.

“ –created some kind of virtual reality from our memories,” Sam finished.

“Basically they recreated our worst memories just for amusement.” Jack almost spat the words. He and Teal’c had been stuck together in the virtual reality, finding themselves in the middle of Jack’s most messed-up mission from the past. It was one of the worst memories of the Colonel, an undercover operation gone awry. He had lost good men there, including his commander officer and friend, John Michaels. Those damn machines had twisted his recollection and made it into a never-ending nightmare, while the Keeper just stood grinning on the side, relishing the new experiences and the misery he created. Not caring about the pain he caused, the Keeper had forced Jack to try and change the inevitable outcome of the events, again and again. Jack was still pissed off about that.

There was one reason and one reason only he would go back inside those machines: to strangle the Keeper, over and over again, with different methods. Because, to quote, there were always other possibilities to explore.

“Amusement?” Hammond questioned back, confused.

“The people on P7J-989,” Daniel started explaining, “were in a… a clinically induced coma,” he remembered the fake Janet’s words. “The machines were sustaining them while keeping their minds in a virtual world for… um…” he halted, looking for the right term.

“Entertainment,” offered Teal’c.

“Right. They have been there for at least a thousand years.”

“But why?” asked the General scowling.

“Their civilization apparently destroyed their planet,” Sam replied, getting more and more exited as she spoke. “They somehow got free from the Goa’uld’s rule and evolved to the point… well, from the complexity of those machines I would say they could be on a level close to the Tollans.”

“But they nearly went extinct,” noted Daniel. After reliving the memory of his parents’ death – watching as a little kid how a badly placed capstone crushed his mother and father while they were setting up an exhibit – he couldn’t see anything remotely intriguing about those machines and the people who made it.

“Yes,” agreed Sam, “therefore they built the machines to keep themselves alive while the planet regenerated.”

“On the MALP’s image we saw a flowering garden,” stated Hammond carefully. He still didn’t know where this thing was going.

“Exactly,” pointed out Jack. “The guy who was in charge of the machines, the Keeper… he called himself that,” he quickly added seeing the General’s questioning look. “He didn’t let his _residents_ ,” he stressed the word mockingly, “go from the machines. He also didn’t want to let us go.”

“There was a point we thought we escaped and returned to SGC,” Teal’c continued the tale. “However it was a ruse. Only your unusual behavior aroused suspicion.”

The realization draw on Hammond. Now he understood the Colonel’s first question and the implication. “What happened after that?”

“The Keeper was lying to the others about the state of the planet,” Daniel spoke up. “We tried to tell them the truth until the Keeper finally let us go just to save his neck. In the end all the others got free, too.”

“Sir,” Jack’s tone was suddenly more serious, “those people have lived their live in a simulation for the past thousand years. We promised to send them supplies to help them.”

Hammond nodded. “That can be arranged. Captain, do you think they would share their technology with us?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sam shrugged. “They were thankful to us for showing them the outside world.”

“They were friendly,” agreed Teal’c.

“Aside from the Keeper. He seemed devastated,” snorted Jack. “Poor man.”

“We should bring him flowers,” Daniel mused. Hammond didn’t really understand why the most professional team on his base suddenly started snickering like schoolgirls. Even Teal’c had good humor in his eyes even if he wasn’t openly smiling.

“Supplies and flowers, it is,” nodded the General and he couldn’t hide his own smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, there’s one thing my feminist self couldn’t leave alone. When the Keeper – in the form of Kawalsky – tries to convince SG-1 that the virtual reality is better than the real word, he tries to pressure Daniel’s and Jack’s sense of guilt and nostalgia; giving them the option to be together with lost friends like Kawalsky. But to Sam, the only woman of the group he says she could be forever young here. He influences the men’s moral but targets the woman’s vanity. That’s sexist.  
> Another thing that really bugs me in this episode is that the Keeper says the environment outside is still poisonous and inhabitable, yet somehow four alien people appeared in their virtual world. They had to come from somewhere – and that somewhere is outside. Why did the “residents” not think about that? Four new, living human is in itself a good point against the Keeper’s claims.


	5. S02E05 Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some action! Or more precisely, finally some interaction between the Regis and SG-1. :)

They were through the gate, arriving at P3R-636, their designated explorable planet, when an unforeseen glitch crossed their path. Said glitch was two armed Jaffa guarding the Stargate. They captured them even before they could step on the first scale of the stairway leading down from the Stargate. Jack cursed. The Jaffa guards were definitely not here an hour ago when they last checked the MALP’s footage.

One of the Jaffa disarmed them while the other blew the warhorn, and immediately three other Jaffa showed up from the nearby forest. Jack looked around nervously – he couldn’t spot them before, only when they stepped out. How many more were there, hiding behind the trees, ready to blast them if they attacked the guards here?

In the course of two minutes they were thoroughly taken prisoners. These Jaffa were infinitely more organized and efficient than the ones under Apophis. It was vexing.

“Take them to the Lord,” ordered the one who confiscated their gear and the three newcomer surrendered them right away. They started to lead them in a line; one of them walked ahead to show the way while the other two brought up the rear, their staff weapons pointing at the SG-1 team, unwavering. They didn’t need to take ten steps when they were finally clear of the forest line and Jack could realize how deep a shit they were in.

There was a Ha’tak parking in the middle of the valley. They were heading right there.

The Jaffa guided them to a beaten track that led straight to the Goa’uld mothership. On their way they passed some kind of mine, but it seemed abandoned. Jack was weighting their chances as they marched forth. The path was deserted – maybe they could overpower the three Jaffa and escape. And then what? The Stargate was heavily guarded. They still had the GDO to go home, however without weapons they had no chance. Their other option was to let themselves be taken to the Goa’uld in charge here. They could escape from prison, search for some Zat in the ship and make a nice big boom for distraction. It sounded a rather good plan. Jack liked the idea of a Ha’tak going boom.

“Colonel,” whispered Sam who was walking behind him, “I don’t think these are real Jaffa.”

“How do you know?” whispered Jack back.

“Sir, I can’t really explain it, but when they grabbed us I just knew,” tried Sam to explain it. “I felt it… or to be more accurate, I didn’t feel it. Sir, it may have something to do with the Goa’uld that invaded me. Lately I get this weird feeling when I’m near Teal’c.”

“Hey, who doesn’t?” grimaced Jack. At the back of the line Teal’c raised his eyebrow. Sam just ignored the Colonel’s jest routinely.

“I can sense the presence of a Goa’uld now.” She was dead serious. And a little bit terrified of her revelation. “I didn’t get that feeling from any of the Jaffa here.”

Teal’c leant closer. “I agree with Captain Carter.”

“All right,” Jack gave in. “Let’s assume you’re both right. How does that help us?”

Sam shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“More importantly,” Daniel joined in, “if they’re not real Jaffa, then who – or what – is their Lord?”

“The million dollar question,” agreed Jack. This whole situation started to make no sense at all. Fake-Jaffa pretending to be real-Jaffa and making a better job of it? It was really vexing.

“Silence!” barked the leader maybe-Jaffa. Jack flashed his most innocent smile at him and followed obediently. For now they would wait and see what the hell was happening in this world, because Daniel was right, a Goa’uld Lord wouldn’t use symbiote-less Jaffa as guards. Something was really fishy here and Jack wanted to sniff it out. The little voice saying that curiosity usually killed the cat was firmly silenced inside his head.

After five minutes of silent walking they arrived at the foot of the Ha’tak. The entrance was likewise guarded, but aside from that the ship was also desolated. Maybe this wasn’t the base planet of this (false) Goa’uld. Or could there be a labor shortage for Jaffa? Did the Jaffa trade union organize a walk-out? It was a fun thought.

The inside and layout of the mothership was, as far as Jack could tell, the same as the ones Apophis had. That meant the Ha’taks were mass produced – it made the sabotage and future invasions so much easier. One upside, at last.

They were led to a bigger room, unknown to Jack. It definitely wasn’t a storage or the main control room. This chamber actually had windows, although the furnishing was the same goldish, monumental design as everywhere else. There were even torches alongside the wall. Torches. In a spaceship. Somebody needed to fire the interior designer.

“On your knees!” commanded one Jaffa after they lined SG-1 up. Jack looked back at him over his shoulder.

“No, actually I’ve got this… cartilage problem, little ACL thing– “The Jaffa impatiently slammed the club end of his Ma’tok staff into his popliteal and Jack fell to his knees with a painful yelp. “Yeah,” he sucked a shaky breath through clenched teeth, “that helps.”

“We caught these intruders when they came out the Chappa’ai,” reported the Jaffa who had no sense of humor. Then the three of them simply bowed, turned and walked out after a job well done. Jack, still in a bad mood about the rough handling, glared after them a little surprised. Was this all? With a little dread he finally looked straight ahead to see who their mysterious Goa’uld Lord was.

First thing after they would get home he would make a T-shirt with the sign ‘Expect the unexpected’ on it and he would wear it every time they would go off-world again. Better, he would make it their new official uniform. He would make the junior Airmen swear to this oath.

Ahead of them was a podium with an oblong table, and behind that on a higher platform stood a golden throne. And the one who was sitting on it, hunching over a mountain of paperwork and feverishly signing them, was none other than the Regis.

“This place has only dinner tables,” was the first and only thing he said without any greetings or acknowledgment. The guy didn’t even lift his head as he spoke, just continued writing as if this casual piece of information was the explanation Jack and his team lacked. Well, it wasn’t.

Jack tried to work his jaw but could only utter a weak “Excuse me?” He wasn’t proud of the slowness of his wits right now. He stared at the table – which was admittedly a crude piece of furniture, artless and stumpy, and didn’t match with the grandeur style of the throne at all. In order to lean over his work so he could write normally, the Regis was partly sitting on the edge of the seat, partly sunk to his knees in front of the lower table. That pose was definitely not one a Goa’uld would sit in. He looked rather like a schoolboy desperately trying to finish his homework than a haughty intergalactic ruler.

“There are no work desks because there’s no administrative system here,” remarked the Regis. His pen didn’t leave the papers even for a minute, and a new stack of documents started to pile up next to him. “I have to organize a bureaucracy from scratch. Why do the Goa’uld hate paperwork? Running an empire requires a _lot_ of paperwork.”

“Just a question here,” raised a hand Jack. This conversation was truly absurd now. “Um, first question. Can we stand up?”

The Regis looked up from his work for the first time, his eyebrows locked in a scowl. “I thought you were already standing.”

“Your Jaffa buddies thought otherwise.” They carefully stood up, and Jack exchanged a meaningful glance with the others. “Second question. How did this,” he waved around his hand, “happen?”

The Regis snorted, and at long last, put down his pen. “Funny story. I was chilling with my buddy Hnum, an Underlord of the late Ra, drinking and playing cards. He was a talkative guy and told me about an old naquadah mine under Seti’s rule which was still sending shipments of the mineral. So after beating Hnum in a poker game and wining all his kingdom and half his daughter, I came here to have a talk and black jack party with Seti. Believe it or not, when I arrived Seti was so happy, he simply handed me all his Jaffa and went for a well-deserved vacation.”

If you could cram in more sarcasm into a sentence than he did, it would literally bite you back. Apparently the Regis was grumpy when he was stuck with paperwork. Jack could relate.

Daniel cringed. “You killed two more Goa’uld?”

“I offer every Goa’uld a chance to forsake their ways, free their Jaffa and slaves and be part of my empire. They always decline and try to kill me.”

“What a shock,” Jack deadpanned. Daniel hummed next to him, thinking the same thing.

“But no,” the Regis shook his head, “this time I didn’t kill Seti. He was already dead.” He got up swiftly and Jack winced inside. His joints would scream in protest after a long stay in that uncomfortable sitting position. But the Regis seemed unaware of such earthly matters. He jumped off the podium with ease and waved them to follow.

“The Goa’uld here was killed six hundred and fifty years ago,” he explained while they walked down corridor after corridor. “Pyrus, the man who killed him, took over this world. He was so afraid that another Goa’uld would come here that he continued everything the way Seti did – only without the symbiotes – to keep up appearances. He made the Ha’tak his palace, he used the false Jaffa as his guards, and he kept mining the naquadah with slaves and sent it through the Stargate.”

“What happened after Pyrus died?” asked Daniel.

“He’s still alive.”

“But he isn’t a Goa’uld,” stated Sam, however from her confused voice it sounded more like a question.

“Seti left a sarcophagus here.”

“Oh,” Daniel pursed his lips. “That explains it.”

“He used the sarcophagus on himself,” confirmed Teal’c.

Jack nodded like he understood the implications. Then he gave up pretense. “What does that mean?”

“He prolonged his life with the healing ability of the sarcophagus,” explained Daniel.

“And he became the same tyrant he had liberated his people from,” added the Regis. “When I arrived here to speak with him, he accused me of being a Goa’uld spy and tried to sentence me to a life of slavery in the mines.”

Now that sounded unpleasant. Jack could still strongly remember how the Regis handled Apophis, another despot who didn’t listen to reason, and could almost imagine how the aforementioned conversation went. The outcome was clear: it was the Regis who sat on the throne and commanded the Jaffa, not the other guy.

After getting the pieces of the puzzle together there was one remaining question that nagged Jack’s mind. “When did this whole regime change happen?”

“Two hours ago,” replied the Regis. Ah, that explained the sudden efficiency of the Jaffa. And also spoke volumes of the terrifying efficiency of the Regis himself. Only two hours and the Jaffa were already loyal to him, the mines cleared out of the slaves, the ex-oppressor taken care of.

“What happened to Pyrus?” Daniel was good with names. Jack wanted to ask the same question but he would have said Papyrus.

“He’s under house arrest.” The Regis stopped. “He only has days left of his life anyway.”

They finally arrived to their destination, another corridor with a dead end. The Regis turned something on the wall and a door opened up. “Here.” He gestured them to go inside.

When Jack stepped inside the room the first thing he saw was a young woman throwing herself at them. “Please, you have to help him!”

In her haste the woman landed in Daniel’s arms, and the startled archaeologist reflexively caught and held her closer. Jack and Sam shared a look behind Daniel’s back and Teal’c, as usual, arched an eyebrow.

The woman was in her thirties, had shoulder-long, wavy brown hair and pleasant features. Her makeup and neatness indicated nobility not a slave. She wore a long, light-colored dress and a stole-like ornament made out of pearls around her décolletage. She steadied herself with Daniel’s help but aimed her words at the Regis. “Please, my father’s condition worsens!”

Jack realized that they were in something like a bedroom. It was a big room with more furniture and with a little bit of more personal touch. This was definitely a private room of a human and not a pompous Goa’uld. One side of the room was dominated by a king sized bed with gold and red sheets and fur blankets. An old man lay there, most likely the father of the woman. He had balding white hair, a white mustache and stern features. Jack first thought he was sleeping but then the man started coughing violently, his body jerking side to side. The woman instantly ran back to him, fear and worry openly on her face as she tried to ease the dying man.

“He is Pyrus,” guessed Sam.

The Regis nodded. “And her daughter and heir, the princess Shyla,” he introduced the woman. Shyla was in no mind to properly greet anybody – she had tears in her eyes as she looked back at them from the bed. Pyrus was breathing more heavily by the minute.

“Can’t you do anything for him?” Jack didn’t know this Pyrus guy and what he did but that coughing indicated grave illness and suffering. He felt a little bad for him and he could see hidden worry in the eyes of his teammates, too. Daniel looked like he wanted to go to Shyla and comfort her.

“I can’t help him,” said the Regis. He sounded indifferent. “The human body and psyche weren’t made for a seven-hundred-year-long lifespan. One or two hundred years are okay, but no more. The mind and soul need to renew themselves. Long life is unnatural for humans; they become apathetic and insane.” He looked at the writhing old man on the bed with cold, dark eyes. “Pyrus did this to himself. And with his slow descent he dragged all of his people with him. He’s beyond help now.” With the final, pitiless words he turned around and simply left.

 

Jack strode the hallways of the ship deep in his thoughts. They split up: Sam and Teal’c went to sample the naquadah in the mine. As Teal’c said, raw naquadah was highly valued by the Goa’uld. Sam really wanted some of the mineral to examine, especially after what SG-5 found had become ingredient in the “Goa’uld buster” bomb (Jack mouthed the name with venomous irony) against Apophis, and the little amount SG-3 brought back last year was already used up in tests. When the Captain got this itchy with some science stuff Jack learned to step aside and let her do her magic. It usually saved their asses.

Daniel stayed at the room with Pyrus and his daughter. No, sorry, the correct phrasing would be that Daniel stayed with Shyla and his father. Priorities. Not that Jack would judge him. Daniel clearly had good intensions – he was too kind and empathic for his own good. Even if they couldn’t ease the physical pain of Pyrus, Daniel could certainly ease the emotional pain of his daughter.

Speaking of which, the Regis was oddly harsh with them. Even if Pyrus deserved punishment for his crimes, even if he was dying of natural causes, leaving a man to suffer wasn’t humane. This was controversial: the guy showed great understanding with the Jaffa, he was intolerant about slavery, but merciless with an old, mad man.

By the way, the talk about lifespans was curious and concerning. They would have to discuss it and its implications further at home. The Goa’uld used the sarcophagus all the time, lengthening their life for hundreds of years – and lengthening the life of the human host they hitched a ride with. They certainly knew Ra’s host was more than five thousand years old. Maybe the reason why all the Goa’uld become somehow evil, mad for power, was the unnatural lifespan of the human. If it truly took a toll on the body and psyche, and the Goa’uld was in symbiosis with said mind, maybe it affected the parasite, too. This could explain so much!

Jack finally made it back to the throne room after just two wrong turns. The damn corridors were all the same from the grand architecture to the last relief on the stone-like walls. As far as Jack could tell the motifs were Inca or Aztec. Not that he knew what kind of god Seti was. He would ask Daniel later.

The Regis was again (or still) behind the table, although the paper piles around him didn’t seemed to decrease.

“What ‘cha doing?” asked the Colonel lightly as he climbed up the podium. The Regis glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Jack simply sat down on his right with crossed legs and beamed at him. He was the epitome of innocent curiosity. The Regis didn’t buy it.

“There are no records of any kind in this place,” he stated tiredly. “I don’t even know if these people can or cannot read or write. Firstly, I have to census the whole planet, albeit the entire population lives in this valley near the Stargate.”

“Yeah, the Goa’uld usually don’t like when people of their slave-planets wonder too far from grasping range.”

“Figures.” He nodded and started another calculation on one of the document’s margin. “Then all the resources have to be counted, too, and redistributed. The former slaves are currently placed at a camp but they need homes. A new judicial body needs to be elected to review all the previous bills of attainder. Since these people have nearly nothing I have to find trading partners for them, then create job opportunities. Mainly constructions first. With the remaining naquadah I could fund the renewal of the infrastructure. After that they need education…”

Jack lost interest. He shut out the Regis’ rant about the importance of good educational system – he really didn’t know anything about rulership. He was a soldier not a politician, and he genuinely hated people who mixed the two (*cough*Maybourne*cough*). He couldn’t even manage his own life or household with this much foresight – it had been Sara’s job, anyway. She was always better in everything.

Pondering, Jack gazed at the bracelet the Regis wore on his right forearm, above the clothes. It looked like it was made out of polished metal. It was two inch wide and had an engraving of a wolf and a panther. The two animals were running, their legs apart, and were locked in an infinite chase, always at the tail of the other but never reaching it. They were exactly like the water-animals he had made when he demonstrated magic. It had taken two days for the ice sculptures to melt completely. Nobody removed them from the conference table for the whole time…

Jack suddenly noticed the silence. The Regis wasn’t talking anymore but staring at him strangely.

“Just admiring your jewelry,” complimented Jack quickly. “Very… fancy.”

The Regis sighed resignedly. “Go, play somewhere else. I have to disassemble the Jaffa guards and find some poor soul who can do accounts.”

Deterred by the idea that he could be utilized as an accountant, Jack obediently stood up, his knees protesting against the rough treatment. However before leaving he had to ask one last thing. “So, you’re really planning to take over P3R-636?”

“The name’s Terella, and I’ve already taken over, if you didn’t notice.” He pointed to the door with his pen. “This world is under my protection and I’m responsible for it. Now bother somebody else.”

Jack took the clue of dismissal and walked out. Behind him the Regis buried himself in his work again, muttering in a language Jack didn’t understand.

Maybe you really needed to be mad to want world domination. If running just one measly region required this much work and a mountain of responsibility, then Jack didn’t want to think about what it took to govern four thousand and… a lot more planets. Even at Earth managing a big state like the US was nearly impossible to do right. They had many faults, Jack didn’t deny that. Then again, the System Lords made a much worse job. Ruling worlds was not one of the strong suits of either of the Goa’uld and humans.

Let’s face it, nobody liked paperwork.

 

Daniel watched as Pyrus’ pain finally eased up and the elder man slipped back into a dreamless sleep. Shyla never let go of his hand.

“If he could use the sarcophagus one last time…” she begged not the first time, but Daniel shook his head.

“It wouldn’t do him any good. Shyla, you have to understand– “

“It could save him!” she shouted and her voice hitched as her eyes began tearing up.

“Oh, boy,” muttered Daniel and stirred in his seat uncomfortably. “Shyla, look…” He really, truly hated when women cried. “The sarcophagus is Goa’uld technology. Do you think they did anything that’s beneficial for humans?”

“The Regis said that my father has gone mad because of his long life,” she sniffled. “But my father is a good man! He did everything to protect us, his people.”

Daniel sucked his teeth. “I wouldn’t really call using your own people as slaves a good act,” he muttered.

Shyla heard it and seemed surprised for a moment. “You do not approve my father’s ways?”

“Nooo, not really.” Daniel hummed then braved himself. “And I think the Regis could help you. Maybe he’s a little strict but he can protect you from the Goa’uld. You don’t need to live like this anymore.”

Shyla didn’t answer just looked back at his father. She cared for him deeply, so much she believed him blindly. A bad feeling crawled up inside Daniel’s guts. “Shyla, how many times did you use the sarcophagus?”

“A couple of times, maybe. I am young by comparison of my father. I have not needed it to extend my life.”

“Then why…?”

“It makes you feel so much better,” she answered a little dreamily. Realization hit Daniel like a mine cave-in.

“And it makes you addicted, doesn’t it.”

Shyla looked at him, confused. “What is an addiction?”

“It’s, um… it’s a condition when you can’t stop doing something. You feel sick when you stop.” It wasn’t the best explanation but Shyla glanced sideways, remembering something. Judging by the look on her face he hit the bullseye and stirred up some bad memories along with it. Daniel knew he needed to push forwards. “Hey,” he grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “it’s not too late for you. You don’t have to become what your father turned into.”

Shyla looked at his dying father and caressed his wrinkled forehead, then shakily nodded. When she turned back to Daniel she smiled sadly and wiped down her tears with her palm. “You must think I’m a fool.”

“No,” Daniel smiled at her kindly. “I think you’re just lost. But you won’t have to be alone. We will help you.”

 

Jack camped outside of the Ha’tak, bored out of his mind. The plan was to regroup after an hour and share information. After his brief conversation with the Regis Jack went outside to look for the locals, but couldn’t find any camp or village. The Terellans must have lived deeper in the valley. So Jack came back and waited. He didn’t want to trouble Sam and Teal’c – and listen to a possibly hour-long presentation about some mineral – and definitely didn’t want to go back to Pyrus. Danny was the emotional supporter, not him.

He picked up flowers and started to pull off their petals, counting. Strangely he always got ‘loves me not’ for everybody. It particularly annoyed him with Sam’s flower. He tried with another breed, a vivid pink one that was similar to a dandelion but bigger. She still didn’t love him. Jack threw away the brutalized flower huffily. The whole vegetation of this planet was against him.

Jack’s regime of terror over the meadow came to an end when Daniel showed up at the ship’s entrance and joined him. The archaeologist was troubled but not overly distressed. Jack didn’t ask anything just slid sideways to make room for him on his rock. Daniel sat next to him silently, and they waited for the other two of their party. After a minute Jack handed a flower to Daniel but the linguist didn’t take it just looked at him funnily. Jack shrugged and continued to rip the herb into shreds.

Sam and Teal’c arrived ten minutes later, and the Captain had a satisfied smile on her face. Someone finally had a good day.

“Did you make any new friends?” greeted them Jack. Teal’c, as always, took the question literally.

“We didn’t meet anybody, O’Neill. The mine appeared to be deserted.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “What did you find?”

“Raw naquadah, sir,” Sam joined in. “I would say very high quality, but I need my equipment at the lab to say more.”

“Alright.” Jack got up and dusted down his pants, ready to roll. “For now, let’s–”

“We have to help them,” Daniel interrupted him, muttering. Everybody glared at the archaeologist, baffled; Jack maybe a little bit more hostilely. Daniel unfolded his arms and stood up with more vigor. “The sarcophagus not only heals you and lengthen your life,” he explained heatedly, “but also causes addiction. I– I think that’s why Pyrus and the Goa’uld became its victims. And… Shyla used it, too.”

“Daniel, it’s not our problem,” Jack declared with a warning in his tone. “The Regis has everything well in hand here.”

Daniel just looked at him with those damned wounded-puppy-eyes of his. “I promised her that we would help her, Jack. I won’t leave.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Jack was all for damsels in distress, but next time he would be the one who speaks to the pretty, troubled lady, and wouldn’t let Daniel do it, who couldn’t say no to a pair of teary, begging eyes. (Not that Jack could – as their present situation proved – but he would deny that.)

“Sir, we could negotiate a trade,” Sam suggested. “We could send help here exchange for the naquadah.”

Daniel immediately caught on. “And I can stay here to make sure everything goes fine.”

Jack sighed. “Negative.” Daniel opened his mouth to argue but Jack stopped him with a raised finger. “If we do this, we do this together.”

Daniel’s shoulders eased and nodded at him gratefully. Sam smiled at him, encouraging his decision, and even Teal’c bowed slightly his head, agreeing with the sentiment. Oh well, Jack was sure Hammond would be this understanding, too. Or he hoped. “Now, let’s find the Regis–”

“I’m here.”

Not for the first time Jack nearly jumped when the Regis’ voice came from closely behind his back. He speedily turned around – the guy was leisurely standing at the doorway of the Ha’tak like he had been there for hours. Jack didn’t hear or feel him approaching. It was genuinely unnerving.

“God, can you be less spooky!?”

“Sorry, it’s part of my contract. I can also do scheming and evil laughter, it’s optional.”

“I said less spooky, not more.”

“Um…” Daniel tentatively stepped closer to the new lord of Terella. “Shyla may have an addiction to the sarcophagus. Our world has programs to handle addiction; we can help.”

It was a little exaggeration since they had no idea what kind of addiction did the Goa’uld tech cause, or what it did to a body, but Jack wouldn’t point that out. Instead he pressed on. “We can help with other… stuff, too.” To that the Regis curiously tilted his head sideways. Jack continued while waving a hand at the direction of Sam and Teal’c. “All we ask for exchange is the right to mine your naquadah.”

“A trade,” Sam clarified if it wasn’t obvious enough.

“It’s not in my liberty to negotiate a trade agreement,” stated the Regis. “Any peaceful treaty between words is under the jurisdiction of the local authorities. I only supervise them.”

Another unexpected thing for today. Jack was sure the Regis had control over everything in his intergalactic empire as any sovereign did. He certainly seemed to handle every little thing here personally. But of course, Jack realized, you couldn’t do everything yourself in more than four thousand worlds.

“You plan to elect a new leader in lieu of Pyrus?” asked Teal’c in his droning voice. He was the only one who didn’t look surprised. Then again, he never looked surprised.

“Yes. This place cannot function without a proper government, and that cannot function without a suitable ruler.”

“If we’re throwing in ideas, why not try, you know, democracy?” suggested Jack innocently. “A nice little election to see what the people want… It couldn’t hurt.”

“Ah, Jack,” Daniel adjusted his glasses which was a sure sign of a historical lecture to come. “Indirect democracy is a fairly late type of governmental system. Through history nations firstly developed monarchic systems, and it took fundamental changes in the environment and economy to evolve into democracy. I’m not sure– “

“But the Greeks did it first,” Jack cut in. He had a distant memory of a history class where Mary O’Brien, everybody’s high school crush had had a presentation about political systems. Unfortunately Jack’s memory was mainly dominated by the red miniskirt she had been wearing that day.

“Yeah, but that was direct democracy where they didn’t elect representatives to vote on their behalf, but instead voted themselves as individuals in every council meeting,” explained Daniel. “The entire system was built on the fact that a city’s population wasn’t as big as a country’s, and every politically active citizen – only adult men – received extensive education.”

Jack was sure Mary O’Brien’s presentation hadn’t included that.

“Exactly,” nodded the Regis. He listened to Daniel’s lecture with keen interest. “It would take more than one generation for the Terellans to realize they are free. They are too used to being told what to do, how to live. The change must come little by little.”

“If not you then who is suitable enough to be their leader?” Teal’c again ignored the chit-chat and went straight for the important question. Gotta love this guy.

“Shyla.”

“Wait, why?” Jack was now truly confused.

“Well, sir, if you think about it, she’s the best candidate,” agreed Sam. Daniel was thoughtful behind her.

“Because she was born into royalty?” Jack’s voice was sarcastic. He did not believe in birthrights.

“Because she have been raised and taught from childhood to be a leader, to look out for her people,” corrected the Regis with serious eyes. “And because even after everything with the sarcophagus and his father, she still _cares_. With the support of another person as empathic as she,” he looked straight at Daniel, “she could be an excellent queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the theory about the relation between the sarcophagus and evilness because it fits into my world better. Of course it also reflects my personal opinion about longevity. You need an immortal mindset to be able to endure immortality. We humans are not built for that.  
> Somehow this whole chapter slipped into a political discussion, sorry about that. I just went with the flow, and somewhere inside my head I had the realization that running an entire planet is a lot of work, and that we see none of that in the TV-show. The slave-worlds SG-1 visits usually so underdeveloped I’m not even sure how are they governed. There should be only simple clans, because an extensive kingdom needs centralization which means written rules and administration. We know the Goa’uld have that but not the primitive worlds. (And let’s not talk about the fact that it’s virtually impossible to not progress in some ways in 5000 years even if the Goa’uld are there like the Mongol hordes.)  
> Daniel’s explanation about democracy was very simplistic and nutshell-y, but let’s face it, Daniel’s explanations always simplistic and nutshell-y.  
> Also, sorry about the emphasis on the Jaffa’s efficacy, but the Jaffa suck. They are like Stormtroopers, only hit redshirts or get hit. There had to be some improvement.


	6. S02E06 Thor's Chariot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode is too important to change anything in it. Also, it would be logical this way – the SG-1 felt responsible for the attack on Cimmeria and wanted to solve it themselves, with the help of the Asgard who were the primary protectors of the planet.  
> Again, if you remember this episode and only want to read the juicy parts, then you can freely skip this chapter.

“I am the actual one whom you know as Thor.”

Daniel didn’t know how to react. It was merely hours ago when the SGC received a call for help from Cimmeria. The Goa’uld – the Etins, as they called them – had attacked their world. It was all SG-1’s fault; a year ago they destroyed Thor’s Hammer, the device that protected the Cimmerian’s Stargate from Goa’uld invasion. They had done it to save Teal’c, but they hadn’t thought about the consequences. Then Gairwyn had contacted them with the devastating news – just for delivering their desperate beg of help they had sacrificed the life of half a dozen Cimmerian warriors.

Of course Jack, Daniel, Sam and Teal’c went immediately. They were responsible and wanted to set things right. However, they were hopelessly outnumbered. The System Lord Heru’ur was already building three gigantic pyramids as landing platforms for his motherships. The place was swarming with hawk-headed Jaffa.

Gairwyn guided them to the hideout of the survivors and Jack took the lead right away… after they persuaded the locals not to blame and kill them for all this. Jack and Teal’c then went out scouting with a Cimmerian warrior, Olaf, while Daniel and Sam took another course of action. Following an old legend about the Hall of Thor’s Might (the name was misleading), hoping for some other weapon the Asgard left there, the two of them, with Gairwyn as their guide, went playing Indiana Jones.

They successfully found the actual hall – more accurately they were transported into it – and passed all of Thor’s tests. The last riddle was really tricky. Three walls of the room were covered with engravings of runes, geometrical shapes and pictograms. Only, as Daniel thought about it, the pictograms were irrelevant; they weren’t a part of the riddle. They were just drawings, clear indication that one or two Cimmerians in the past had got this far, but couldn’t find the answer. It came down to just the runes and shapes. In the end Sam was the one who solved the puzzle: the runes spelled the digits of pi. Daniel drew a radius on the circle shape, because pi was used to find the circumference of a circle by measuring the radius. And that was it. They passed the last test.

And then, where a projection of a big Viking man had been, now stood a smaller and… stranger creature. It– He (the being was conveniently shown from waist up, and didn’t wear any clothes) had blueish-grey colored skin in the hologram’s light. His body was impossibly skinny and his head was twice the size of a human’s. He had large, all-black eyes, a snake-like split nose and tiny, bulged mouth like a fish.

“Daniel, this is uncanny,” said Sam with awe and a little disbelief. “It looks just like the descriptions of the ‘Roswell Greys’ back home.”

Daniel felt the awe too, but believe it, he could. Finally, not another advanced human nation but a whole new species! This was more than marvelous; this was everything he was hoping for. A small smile appeared on his face. “Those stories may be true after all.”

The corner of Sam’s lips twitched, too. “You think the Asgards may’ve visited Earth?”

“Why not?” The thought was logical and appealing. Daniel’s head was spinning with ideas. The sideway smile on Sam’s face mirrored the archeologist’s own anticipation and childish admiration.

Jack would have been freaked out by now, but if you put two scientific minded persons in the same room with something as mind-blowing as an actual little grey alien, who might have had contact with humanity before, they would treat it as if Christmas and Easter had come the same day.

“I am the supreme commander of the Asgard fleet,” stated the alien, Thor, with a monotone voice. Daniel didn’t care if this was only a projection, this was still huge! He couldn’t wait to tell Jack all this. He sooo wanted to see his face when they would tell him who the Asgard really were.

Gairwyn, who worshiped the Asgard as gods, wasn’t as awestruck and ablaze as the two Tau’ri. “How can this be?” she asked perplexed.

“In the ten-span since I created this world you are the first to reach this level of contact. You’ve finally grown wise enough to see me in my true form,” was the answer – or the coincidentally perfectly timed recorded speech.

Gairwyn was shaking her head since the start of the second sentence. “These are the wise ones,” she inclined her head towards Sam and Daniel. “I would never have come this far without their help.”

Sam had enough seeing the poor woman begging and pleading to a mindless piece of technology. She decided to explain her that the gods and magic were just another extraterrestrial race and high-tech. “Gairwyn, it’s a hologram. It was probably recorded a thousand years ago. It can’t hear you.”

Thor blinked at them. “On the contrary. My image is a living transmission,” he clarified calmly. “I am communicating to you from my quarters aboard the Asgard ship _Biliskner_.”

Sam’s eyes doubled. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find words.

“You mean,” Daniel stepped closer, his voice steep with astonishment, “you’re the real Thor?” He looked back at Sam, who shared the ‘wow’-momentum and excitement with him. “This is… This is great. Um…” Now came the tricky part. Daniel licked his lips while thinking about how to proceed. How should you tell an advanced, possibly-friendly alien that you screwed up, big time? The Regis was snappish when they accidentally endangered people, like when they unknowingly freed the Destroyer of Worlds. The myths didn’t paint Thor as a vengeful god but who knew which part of the stories were first-hand experience and which were added later.

In the end he decided to go with panicked urgency. “We need your help. The Goa’uld are here.”

“Impossible. Cimmeria is a safe world.” Thor remained serene.

“Yeah…” Daniel grimaced. _Here comes nothing._ “We sort of messed that up.”

“Daniel,” Sam stepped in warningly. “Careful.”

“Look,” Daniel turned to her, lowering his voice, “if we want them to be our friends, we have to show them they can trust us.” He looked back at Thor and continued to honestly explain the events that had led to the current situation. He hoped, no, he believed that the Asgard race was understanding and benevolent; protectors of the realms just like in the original mythology. “You see, we– we came here a year ago to meet you and your people, to make an alliance against the Goa’uld. One of our party, a Jaffa, was trapped in your labyrinth…”

“The Jaffa serve the Goa’uld,” declared Thor with certainty, chin held high, like the humans before him were mere children spinning far-fetched tales.

“This one does not,” vowed Gairwyn, finally stepping up. “He stands with them, and now with us, to fight the Etins.” Her words were strong and without hesitation as she corrected her personal god. Daniel glanced at her thankfully.

“You see,” he continued, “we had no choice but to destroy the hammer to free our friend.”

“And by doing so, you have opened Cimmeria to attack by the Goa’uld.” The Asgard’s voice was passionless yet carried heavy disapprobation. Sam bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes. Gairwyn had said the hawk-headed Jaffa already killed half of her people, and it was SG-1’s fault, there was no denying it.

“Yeah,” Daniel shrugged, trying to dim the dark tone of the conversation. “Apparently.”

“So, am…” Sam took over the conversation. “If you have any weapons that might be of help, we would really like to set things straight.” She spoke openly and pressingly.

“Weapons?” Thor was baffled. So was Daniel and Sam.

“Isn’t that what all those tests were here to protect?” the archaeologist asked with a confused frown.

“The tests were designed to tell us when the Cimmerians would be advanced enough to see us as we really are,” replied the Asgard. Sam and Daniel looked at each other, quickly losing any hope. Was this all for nothing? “We did not anticipate outside interference,” finished Thor with a tone that indicated he too was unnerved by the sudden turn of events.

“See, we didn’t mean to interfere…” Daniel couldn’t finish his apology because the image of Thor abruptly disappeared in a glitter of thousands of tiny and colorful sparks. He desperately yelled “No, wait–” but the white light from the gem on the obelisk has already transported them out of the hall. They were standing in the middle of the forest again, at the Hall of Thor’s Might, where they started hours ago.

The difference this time was that Gairwyn wasn’t there with them.

 

Overpowered by Jaffa, their weapons taken and currently being escorted to the planet-destroying System Lord, Jack felt a strong déjà vu.

Together with Teal’c and Olaf they assaulted the Jaffa with guerrilla tactics, but it wasn’t any good. They were outnumbered one to twenty and enclosed in a small terrain. Their only hope was the illustrious super-weapon Sam and Daniel went searching for. They came back empty-handed. Well, that was that. No use crying over spilled milk. Sam said they met with the true Thor, so that was a good point for today. Jack was _really_ happy for them.

The Prime of Heru’ur finally found their hideout and gave an ultimatum: surrender or die. Real original. Real convincing when backed up with those energy-weapon cannons. As Sam pointed out, they didn’t have any firepower to go around. The scale of the Goa’uld invasion force was way larger than Jack had expected.

Fighting a lost battle was not Jack’s philosophy. More like ‘live to fight another day.’ And after he joined SGC, it went like ‘live to fight another day and maybe a more advanced and stronger alien species will help you kick ass.’ Or just leave it to Carter, she will figure a scientific way out.

He only just slapped Daniel on the shoulder for his pessimistic comment (“ _This is a good day to die,” my ass_ ), when out of nowhere a thunderstorm billowed over the pyramids of Heru’ur. From the clouds descended a spaceship like Jack had never seen before. He could frankly just stare with astonishment.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I think this is Thor’s Chariot,” Daniel announced, and he had the nerve to be smug about it. Jack wanted to hit him again but was too busy scraping his chin up from the ground. Even Teal’c was struck with awe seeing the legendary Asgard mothership.

Then white beams of light, coming from the _Biliskner_ , started to sweep through the land and everything they touched simply vanished. All the Jaffa warriors, even the pyramids. Nothing Goa’uld related remained. Thor cleansed Cimmera from them. It was over in less than a minute. Jack had to admit, it was slightly more impressive than what the Regis did. He (allegedly) had magic, but the Asgard had cool spaceships, and spaceships trumped everything.

The last beam of light transported Gairwyn next to them. She told them that the Asgard had visited Earth often in the past, but considered their species still too young to have open contact with. Jack would have liked to have one of two words about that with their lil’ old pal Thor. Strictly polite and diplomatic words, of course.

The planet was safe and this was all that mattered now. Gairwyn said that an Asgard teacher would stay here to help them and build a second Thor’s Hammer, and this one would favor Teal’c. They could visit any time they wanted and they would be always welcomed as friends.

Jack sighed. The day was saved by a benevolent, protector alien. Again. It started to be a pattern with them. Not that he complained. It certainly made life easier.

They watched together as the dark clouds and Thor’s Chariot slowly withdraw from the sky, leaving SG-1 and the people of Cimmeria to live again in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting episode, I like the Asgard. But the riddle… oh, my God, that riddle! The writers of this episode didn’t put much energy into coming up with something. Discovering pi is the measure of maturity, really? On Earth the ancient Greeks (Archimedes) already knew about pi, even the Egyptians and Mesopotamians had a cruder method to measure the circumference of a circle that included a loose calculation of pi. That means, applying the episode’s logic, that the Asgard should have revealed themselves to the humans around the first millennium B.C. Because, you know, we were wise enough to see them in their true form.  
> Maybe the problem was that they went to the North during the middle ages, not to the Mediterranean or the Near-East.  
> But the fact that the Asgard still didn’t recognize SG-1 as worthy for an alliance even after solving that riddle, determines that it was all a lie.  
> Also, in the episode they didn’t say anything about the pictograms on the wall, so the thing about previous triers was my idea. Based on the drawings and the meaning of the runes it seemed reasonable.


	7. S02E07 Message In A Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An episode where SG-1 could have handled the situation more efficiently if they had just asked for help. So what if they really did?

Even if Sam really wanted to she couldn’t blame anyone but herself for the situation they were in. She convinced the Colonel to bring back the orb from P5C-353. Sure, Daniel and Teal’c backed her up, but she had the final word. She just wanted a potential power source more advanced than anything on Earth or even what the Goa’uld had, so badly. A power source that lasts for thousands of years.

First it was all well. Discovering two new elements that weren’t on the periodic table before counted as a good day in Sam’s eyes. Not an outstandingly exciting day – she reserved that for astrophysical discoveries – but a fairly thrilling one. Daniel shared the sentiment, although on a linguistic level. On the outside of the orb was a writing system Daniel was hell bent on figuring out. They even pulled an all-nighter to have more time working on the alien artifact. The Colonel of course didn’t fall flat on his stomach with fascination – he was the one reacting quickly when the orb started to misbehave. He wanted to throw the damned thing back to its planet and he was the one paying the price of their stupidity.

The orb was booby trapped just like Teal’c had suggested. It fixed itself to the Embarkation Room; nailed itself to the ground and walls with long spears which shot out from its surface. One of the spikes hit Jack – the extending bar went straight through his shoulder and pinned him to the wall so high his legs were dangling in the air.

Everybody was in a panic; Daniel and Sam watched, horrified as the events unfolded before them. The Colonel was clearly suffering, the artifact was burning hot, and they could do nothing. Teal’c’s staff weapon did no damage and Sam had to stop him from firing again and again hoping for some reaction, because the orb absorbed the energy and she knew the desperate attacks did more harm than good. Jack was going mad from the agonizing pain and screamed and begged for Teal’c to shoot once more. Hammond franticly ordered a cutting torch, but that wasn’t any good; the alloy of the orb was hundreds of times stronger than steel. Sam tried to focus, to think, because she had to be logical, she had to have a clear mind to find a solution, she couldn’t let herself be frozen in shock. She couldn’t let down Jack, this whole thing was on her, and she would fix it. She had to.

After that the General locked down the entire base. Until they could figure out what the orb really was this situation was classified as a hostile act against Earth. They got every available personnel to help them – Daniel led the translation team while Sam’s group approached the problem from a scientific angle.

The one who provided the answer was Janet. She found an alien virus, or rather an omnivorous bacteria-like organism that infected not just Jack, but everything else around him. Thanks to some UV units, it turned out the organism coming from the orb had already started to eat away the concrete walls, the cables, clothes, anything it came contact with. Half of Jack’s body illuminated in a vibrant blue color under the UV-light.

This was an even bigger problem than they had thought. This wasn’t an uncharacterized hostile act anymore. This was direct invasion.

“Captain, I need your honest assessment,” requested Hammond when e and Sam was left alone in the Conference Room, after Janet gave them Tetracycline shots against the bacteria. “Can we beat this?”

“Like the colonel always says, never give up, right?” Sam tried to lighten the mood but the General wasn’t amused. The positive smile faded from her face. “I’m not sure, sir.”

Hammond’s shoulders sagged and he looked aside like he had already known the answer but sorely hoped it would be different. “Maybe it’s time to consider evacuating personnel through the Stargate,” he said resignedly while walking away. Sam quickly followed.

“I’ve thought of that, but to where?” She considered everything. This thing was her responsibility and she’d done enough damage. “There’s no guarantee that we can stop the organism for coming through the gate along with us. I don’t think we have the right to infect another world.”

“There are a number of uninhabited worlds,” the General tossed up the idea. Sam grimaced because it was true but it raised a lot more other problems. Hammond must have noticed it because he added a little more uncertainly. “Albeit most are uninhabited for a good reason.”

That was one point but Sam was unnerved by another. “Even if we could evacuate a number of survivors,” she explained, “practically every one of us is now infected by the organism to some degree. Without antibiotics we’d all be like Lieutenant Simmons by now.” The poor Airman was allergic to Tetracycline according to Janet. Ha was one of the firstly infected and he had a numbingly high fever like Jack’s, if not worse. “The survivors would run out of supplies within a few days,” she finished with a steady voice, emphasizing the certain doom of the idea.

“At least they’d have that much time to find a solution.” Hammond was not ready to give up on his people, he had great faith in them. Although Sam respected their General for this, she had to disagree this time.

“It’s not worth the risk in my opinion, sir. We don’t even know what the orb would do if we tried to activate the Stargate again,” she pointed out.

Hammond’s whole pose drooped by the weight of hopelessness. “Very well,” he sighed. “We’ll make our stand right here, Captain.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Sam with a bad taste in her mouth. She didn’t like their odds either, nor seeing the resignation on the General’s face.

Hammond started to walk away and for a moment Sam hesitated because the plan that popped up in her head wasn’t conventional. Then again, what was in their line of work? She thought about what would Jack do, and in her mind the Colonel gave her the thumbs up. “Sir, we may have another option.”

Hammond turned back more animatedly than before. “I’m listening.”

Sam took a deep breath. “We could call the Regis.” Seeing the General’s lack of reaction, she elaborated. “He helped us before and as far as we know he highly values life. More importantly he comes from a more advanced world. He may have a cure or some information about what we are dealing with. He can give us a fighting chance, sir.”

Hammond weighed the Captain’s words for a minute, then nodded and turned towards his office to use the crystal-ring.

 

Undomesticated equines could not remove Teal’c from the Gate Room. The symbiote inside him protected him from the organism, therefore he could be close to the Colonel. He stood next to Jack like a sentinel, watching out for his friend and tending him.

Further from them Sergeant Siler was still trying to melt through the spear’s bar with a cutting torch, but the work went slowly. The alloy of the orb was too hard. They could do nothing more than sit in the dark, watching as the phosphorescent blue lights spread across O’Neill’s skin and the walls, and hoping that Dr. Fraiser and Samantha Carter would figure something out.

“Stop that,” came the order form the entrance and Teal’c looked up just as Jack blinked his hazy eyes open. The Sergeant turned down the torch, surprised. Hammond and Sam walked into the Embarkation Room but it wasn’t either of them who gave the order – it was the Regis, who strode before them. Upon the General’s reassuring nod Siler put down the cutting torch and stood back.

“Someone brought the heavy artillery,” mumbled Jack when the Regis stepped next to him. The guy was as high as Teal’c’s shoulders – he seemed extremely skinny next to the big Jaffa. And… was he wearing the same clothes he wore when they first met? Jack’s worn out mind highlighted strange facts, the like he usually didn’t care about. For example, the fact that the Regis _always_ wore the same set of black clothes.

“Do you have a whole wardrobe full of the same clothes, or are you a quick launderer?” He tried to joke but his words turned into painful groan at the end. The Regis leant closer and placed his palm on the Colonel’s sweaty forehead.

“I can wear anything for you, you just need to ask.” He smiled at him kindly, almost charmingly.

“Are you… are you flirting with me?” Jack asked whispering. He was dying and a guy was flirting with him, not Sam. Life was truly unfair.

The Regis pulled back his hand but his smile didn’t waver. “I can flirt with anybody.” He winked and Jack really didn’t want to laugh because it hurt.

The man left him and Teal’c, and walked back to the orb which embedded itself into the room with five spikes. Sam, Hammond and Silas was still standing near to it, but slowly backed away when the Regis asked them to. He himself stepped closer and carefully touched the alien artifact.

Immediately another spear shot out from the orb towards him. The Regis caught it with inhuman reflexes, a millisecond before it stabbed him in the chest. However, the strength and speed of the launch was so great the spear went onward, pushing the Regis back. He slid on his shoe sole towards the wall and they all knew that with this much force the spike would impale him to the concrete. But at the last second the Regis swung his leg back and propped himself against the wall, stopping himself and the extending spear as well. Now he looked like a ballerina who was stretching; one leg on the floor and one lifted behind him, propped high to the wall. And a deadly spike millimeters away from his chest.

In the light of the UV units the virus illuminating in blue quickly infected the Regis’ hand. It spread further up on his arm, following the blood veins, until a sparkling blue star-shape appeared on his temple, just like on Jack. At that moment he closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Now what?” Jack cawed. His day was not improving.

“I believe we wait,” answered Teal’c. That man had nerves like steel. Sam could only agree with him. They had no idea what was happening, but she and the General made a decision to trust the Regis.

“Sam, General Hammond!” shouted Daniel’s voice from the hallway, coupled with rapid footsteps. “It’s intelligent! It’s trying to commu–” Daniel halted at the door nearly crashing into Siler. He took the scenery before him with wide eyes. “What just happened?”

Sam begun to explain the situation but Hammond interrupted. “What did you say about intelligence?”

“Oh, um…” Daniel had a hard time looking away from the weirdly posed Regis and focusing on the General. “It’s trying to communicate with us!”

After the organism had got inside the concrete walls, it ate itself through the cables and infected the computers, too. The system became useless; all the monitors in the base only showed flickering colors. Daniel had his eyes yo-yoing in their sockets trying to work through the translative database. And then, suddenly, something changed. On the monitors a symbol popped up – a wheel-like shape bulged out and then withdrew into the vibrating color-and-data show. It pulsed like a heartbeat. The shocking thing was, however, that the exact same symbol could be seen on the surface writings of the orb. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“What we thought was gibberish may be the aliens’ attempt to communicate.” Sam, Hammond, even Teal’c looked at him doubtfully. Jack simply didn’t have the energy to make faces. “Look,” Daniel tried again to express the importance of his discovery to his – right now evidently little bit slow – friends. “The point is we haven’t considered that we may be up against an alien intelligence.”

“He’s right.” The Regis was awake again, but didn’t move from his spot. “They call themselves the A’t’trr.”

“Great,” Jack muttered weakly. “Can somebody show them the door and ask them to party in someone else’s body?”

“In a minute, I’m still negotiating with them.” The Regis closed his eyes again. Maybe to concentrate, guessed Sam as she studied the man. Did he purposefully let himself infected in order to speak with the organism? Were they talking in his mind?

The Captain’s eyes widened from the revelation.

“Negotiating with whom?” Hammond lost the line somewhere and wanted answers from Carter and Jackson.

“With the A’tatrr, I think,” Daniel replied uncertainly.

“Sir,” started Sam excitedly, “maybe it was the organism’s goal from the start. To communicate, I mean,” she clarified when everybody glared at her with blank looks. “Dr. Fraiser says the organism bonds together in chains,” she expounded. “What if it’s only capable expressing that intelligence once it reaches critical mass?” She glanced at Jack. “Maybe Colonel O’Neill didn’t just get in the way. Dr. Fraiser said there was no blood. There is practically no trauma around that wound. See, with the force it struck him that’s just not possible.”

“Unless it did it on purpose.” Daniel finally caught on.

“Yes!”

“It wanted to communicate with us through Jack all along.”

“Yet you treated it like a virus,” the Regis interjected. He had his eyes open again and focused at them. “The orb was a hibernation chamber for them, which they created when their world was dying. Once exposed to the atmosphere of a living world they awoke and started to multiply. They only wanted to live, and got scared when you nearly tossed them back to their former, dead world.”

“Well, we got scared, too,” mumbled Daniel.

“I reached an agreement with them to relocate them to another world.”

“Thank you.” Hammond sighed, relieved.

“Hello,” Jack had a failed attempt to speak louder than a cracked whisper. “Still here.” Teal’c wiped his forehead with a cloth and handed him a glass of water with a straw but Jack refused it. His mouth was dry as a desert but he didn’t want to drink, he wanted out of here. Being the chosen one to overcome the communicational barrier between two species was not his ideal evening activity. Especially if it involved being impaled to a wall by a burning hot spear.

The Regis finally put down his leg and grabbed the bar with both hands. Suddenly all the phosphorescent blue began to retreat back to the orb. It was a slow but visible process, like a recording rewound. The organism also withdrew from Jack, as well as from everybody else who was even remotely infected. The illuminating blue disappeared from all over the walls and from people’s skin. When it was all gone, then with a careful motion all the spikes pulled back from the walls. Jack grunted with pain as the spear left him, and Teal’c quickly caught him when the Colonel started to slump down from his makeshift chair.

The orb, back in its original form, was in the hands of the Regis, who remained the only one with illuminating blue on him.

“Call a medic,” ordered Hammond, and Silas ran outside while the members of SG-1 immediately surrounded Jack. The weary Colonel slipped into unconsciousness.

Hammond looked back at the Regis, but he wasn’t there anymore – he and the orb was simply gone. He wanted to thank him for his help properly, but like always, the Regis appeared and disappeared at whim. The General sighed, then turned back to his men, just when Dr. Fraiser arrived.

 

Jack felt soggy, like his brain became a mush and his body was hit by a moving Ha’tak. Did somebody shoot him with a Zat? Oh, yeah, he did get shot by a Ma’tok staff multiple times. Some of them he ordered himself. Not his best moment, he admitted, but not every day got someone pierced to a wall by an alien, infectious spear. He had been in agony, sick and feverish for hours; nobody could blame him for irrational thoughts. Like wanting to die in every second of those hours, just to stop the pain.

After a hard struggle against what felt like heavy chains on his eyelids, he could finally open his eyes. With an additional minute he could see as well.

He was in the infirmary. Figures. He always ended up in there. Usually with Dr. Fraiser as his warden. Maybe, if he was quick and silent enough he could get away safely. He tried to move very, very carefully…

“Ah, Colonel, you are awake.”

Damn, too late. Here comes the penlight…

Janet was instantly next to his bed, and oh yes, she was waving the penlight in front of his eyes, testing his pupil’s dilation. “How do you feel?” she asked while she grabbed his wrist to check his pulse, too.

“Like a collage party went wrong.”

The doctor chuckled. “I bet.” She finished the medical inspection and called for the General on the speaker, then helped the Colonel when he moved to sit up. “Careful, you were asleep for two days,” she cautioned. “The fever caused by the alien organism–”

“The Ata-something,” nodded Jack with a wince.

“Yes… It exhausted your system. You needed the rest.”

“But it’s gone now, isn’t it?” Jack murmured a prayer because hell if he wanted another parasitic, intelligent lifeform inside his body. Sometimes in the Embarkation Room he had felt like the virus – the Atatrr or what the hell – could take over his mind and body. Like it could load his brain with new, alien thoughts, new ideas, new needs and a new will. It was terrifying.

“Don’t worry, it’s gone. The infection cleared out from your and everybody else’s system.”

“And the Regis took the orb with him,” added Hammond as he stepped inside the infirmary. He wasn’t alone – Daniel, Sam and Teal’c were all with him, smiling at him. Even the Jaffa looked pleased.

“I hope you asked where he relocated it, sir, because I won’t set a foot on that planet,” Jack grunted.

“Understandable,” acknowledged the General with a serious voice, but mirth shone in his eyes.

“It is good to see you well, O’Neill,” greeted Teal’c. Daniel patted his shoulder with an awkward manner, and next to him Sam looked genuinely relieved. Jack made a note in his mind to talk with Carter later; he bet the Captain was blaming herself for this incident. The dark circles under her eyes were a good clue. Surely, this attitude of self-reproach had to go.

“Yeah, I’m back in business.” Jack rolled his right shoulder but didn’t feel any pain. He recalled somebody saying something about a clean wound and no trauma. One small luck on his part – he would have hated it if he had been out of commission for weeks because of an injury. He got fidgety on the sideline.

“If you’re all here,” Janet directing the attention back to herself, “the test results just came back from the lab.”

“What test?” Jack hoped it wasn’t something to do with him.

“You remember that General Hammond and Sam called the Regis for help,” started Daniel, and Jack narrowed his eyes as he recalled the hazy memory.

“Yeah, he flirted with me.”

“Um, what?” Daniel looked at the Colonel with a blank expression. He wasn’t there at that part and had a hard time deciding if his friend was joking or being serious. “Ah, never mind.” He shook his head and returned to the subject. “When the Regis touched the A’tatrr orb it attacked him. He blocked the spear before it could stab him.” Jack winced at the remembrance of his unblocked spear. “But it must have hurt him. Sam found a few drops of blood on the ground, and Janet had it analyzed.”

“Nice,” Jack rubbed his palms together in anticipation. “Was it green or something?”

Sam deflated his enthusiasm. “No.”

“Blue?”

“Colonel!” Hammond rebuked him.

“Alright, sorry. Just checking.”

Janet cleared her throat and picked up a dossier from the table. “To answer the Colonel’s question, the Regis’ blood contains hemoglobin just as any other human.”

“I sense a ‘but’ here, doctor,” the General urged her to go on.

“ _But_ he doesn’t have an immune system.”

“Wait! Is he a Jaffa?” Jack was perplexed.

“No,” Janet shook her head. “He doesn’t have naquadah in his body. But that’s not all,” she continued listing her discoveries. “It’s not just his immune system that’s missing. He doesn’t have thrombocytes, and–”

“Thrombite, what?” Biology wasn’t one of Jack’s strong suit.

“Thrombocytes or platelets,” Sam repeated. “They cause the blood coagulation.”

This time Daniel interrupted. “Shouldn’t have he bled to death then? If the spike wounded him, there should have been more blood, shouldn’t have?”

“Yes, but it’s only the beginning of the bizarreness. His blood also doesn’t contain any kind of minerals, hormones, or traces of any virus and bacteria. Also his levels of glucose, protein and cholesterol are way below what should be in a normal human.”

Jack had already opened his mouth but Hammond got ahead of him. “What does it mean, doctor?”

“Normally, human blood not only contains the blood cells and the plasma, but organic molecules, mineral ions, hormones and other minor things,” she explained. “But this man doesn’t have any of it. His blood is as clean as clinically possible.”

“And that’s bad, because…”

“As far as medical science goes, it’s impossible.” Janet put down the paper and looked at her superior with serious eyes. “Sir, I don’t know how he is even alive.”

Hammond sighed. “So he’s definitely not human,” he stated with finality.

“From what I see, I can clearly say that he’s not human, but not entirely another species, either. Maybe half-human.”

“Terrific,” Jack commented. Why wasn’t he surprised?

“He always mentions magic,” Sam spoke up. “Was there any unidentified substance in his blood? Nanites or some alien minerals like naquadah?”

“No, nothing.” Janet glanced at the papers and shook her head.

“Well, magic by the definition is something we can’t measure,” shrugged Jack. That comment won a funny look from everybody.

Teal’c lifted his eyebrow at him. “There is no such thing as magic; you taught me that, O’Neill.”

“Yeah, but this guy makes you wonder.”

In that regard nobody could argue with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone notice that no character (actor) looked shocked and horrified when the spike hit Jack? It was terrifying, Jack was in a lot of pain, yet Daniel seemed almost relaxed, and Hammond and Sam couldn’t convince me about their great distress as well. I don’t know if it was the fault of the actors or the director but they were just plain.  
> The A’t’trr is the actual name of the organism inside the orb according to the wikia page. I don’t think anybody could pronounce it correctly, so when Daniel and the others say A’tatrr they merely mispronounce the name.  
> The end of the chapter was simple technobabble to reveal some oddity about the Regis. Because this TV-show is nothing if not all about technobabble. :)


	8. S02E08 Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to announce that after this chapter there will be a longer pause. I won’t abandon this project (God forbid!) I simply need more time to write.  
> Now, as for this episode, it needed to be reorganized completely, for obvious reasons – Apophis’ unquestionable death, and all… (If you are sick and tired of Teal’c’s family drama in the episode, jump to the second half of the chapter)

“Chevron Five, encoded.”

SG-1 stood at the bottom of the ramp waiting for the Stargate to dial Chulak. All of them were a little nervous, not knowing what would be at the other end of the gate. Would there be guards, Jaffa still worshipping Apophis, believing that their god cannot be dead? Did the people on Chulak even know what happened after Apophis had gone to conquer the Tau’ri? The uncertainty was killing Jack.

“Chevron Six, encoded.”

This was their first attempt to visit Chulak after Apophis’ death. Teal’c requested it – the big warrior was concerned about his family, especially his son, Rya’c. They’ve not had word from the Jaffa home-planet for almost a year now; didn’t know how their god’s disappearance affected the people there. Jack could understand Teal’c’s worry all too well.

“In all probability there is a measure of chaos on Chulak,” the Jaffa had said on the meeting. “Bra’tac is an old friend. He promised to protect my family and I trust him. However–”

“Teal’c,” Hammond had interrupted him, “you don’t have to explain. You have a go.”

“Chevron Seven, locked.”

The event horizon erupted then collapsed back into itself, settling into an illuminant circle of gently rippling water. Jack watched it while he straightened his white robe which they wore as disguise above their military gear. Teal’c had his Jaffa uniform on his body and a stern expression on his face. Jack knew how nervous, hopeful and frightened the big guy must have been, even if he didn’t show it. As a soldier the Colonel remembered the feeling only too vividly – when you returned home after a several month long mission, knowing that you missed your son’s birthday party and spelling bee competition yet again; knowing that your wife dreaded every minute of those months, fearing that it would not be you who returns, but your commanding officer with broken eyes.

Jack cast a last glance at his teammates before he stepped into the Stargate. Sam nodded encouragingly, a Zat ready in her hands as she followed him. Daniel on the other hand looked unfocused. Jack couldn’t blame him. The date of the Abydos gate’s disinterment was upon them, and that was all the archaeologist could think about. As much as Teal’c missed his family, Daniel did, too.

The Chulak-side of the Stargate was deserted. Nobody guarded the ring. It was more foreboding than relaxing for Jack. Before he could mutter any command Teal’c already hurried away, towards the settlement of the Serpent Jaffa. Apparently the lack of guards made him alarmed, too. They followed the big guy silently.

“This is most unsettling,” noted Teal’c as they reached the town. Jack and the others saw this place only twice, but even they could tell it was not this empty before. The streets were unkempt, the market place neglected, and there were only a few people around, minding their own business with eyes locked on the ground. None of them were in warrior gear. No serpent helmet in sight.

Teal’c caught a young woman’s arm and asked her about Drey’auc. The girl pointed at a big mansion at the end of the street, then scurried away. The Jaffa wasted no time; he strode towards the house, agitation lengthening his steps. As they got closer Jack couldn’t help but whistle approvingly. The ‘house’ was more like a Mediterranean villa with claret doors and terrace. It was two stories big, reaching above the other buildings in the area. It looked rich, although not well kept. The evergreen plants on the front yard were withered and yellow in their stone pots.

“How could she afford such a home?” whispered Teal’c, aiming his question to no one in particular. The last time they saw the big Jaffa’s wife and son, they lived in the camps outside the town as outcasts. This residence was certainly a step up.

They aligned themselves at the gate like girl scouts selling cookies, only the one actual woman in their group had a weapon in her hand instead of boxes of delicious goods. For a moment there Jack imagined Sam as a little girl in scout’s uniform, then as a grown woman in sexy scout’s uniform, then quickly shut the door on his imagination and aborted. Before the Captain could give him a questioning look why he stared at her just now, he turned his attention back to the task ahead.

A suggestion of caution was on the tip of Jack’s tongue, but by then Teal’c had already barged in the house, not bothering with knocks or other politeness. Jack closed his mouth. Well, for all he knew about the mannerism of Chulak, entering a house unannounced could be a gallant way of saying hello. He shrugged and followed the man. Daniel walked closely behind him while Sam watched their back.

The front door opened to a spacious and austere hall. It was like the exterior of the house: big, but not very welcoming. Everything was trimmed from cold, grey stone; the few deep-red colored, carved wooden furniture desperately tried to give a cozy undertone to the Spartan interior, but failed miserably. The large windows above the door could barely light up the whole space. There was a stairway on the left, leading to a gallery, probably where the upper chambers were. The big hall was definitely the center of the house, the common room, at least judging by the long dining table that dominated the place.

At said table sat Drey’auc, the wife of Teal’c. She looked startled and frightened by their entrance (not an expected, polite one, then). But then Teal’c pulled off his hood which hided his face, and she took a shaky breath. “Teal’c?” She could not move just clasped her hand before her mouth, so Teal’c moved to her. He embraced her and after a second she returned it. “You came back!”

“Teal’c!”

The surprised sound came from the top of the stairway. A new guy stood there whom Jack didn’t recognize, however Teal’c seemed to. He frowned at the newcomer perplexedly but not alarmingly. The other man did not seem to be bothered by it; he smiled widely as he jogged down the steps.

“And you are the warriors from the Tau’ri,” he nodded towards the rest of the SG-1 team. “I have heard much about you from Bra’tac. I am Fro’tak of the High Cliffs,” he finished introducing when he finally reached the ground and stood before them. He was dark skinned and muscular like Teal’c, but not that tall and broad. He wore the Serpent’s insignia on his forehead in that goldish way that indicated he was – or had been – a First Prime, too.

“Jack of the Windy City,” replied the Colonel. Really, no one could fault him for that phrasing. It was an opportunity he couldn’t miss. “This is Jackson and Carter.”

Teal’c seemingly relaxed and clapped hands with Fro’tak like old friends. “Your presence in the home of my wife is greatly appreciated, Fro’tak.”

The smile slowly faded from the man’s face. Drey’auc stepped away from Teal’c and stood next to the other Jaffa, who possessively hugged her waist, pulling her closer to himself. “It is my home, Teal’c.”

_Oh, boy_ , thought Jack dreadfully. Behind him the penny dropped for Sam and Daniel, too. Only Teal’c seemed to remain oblivious; he continued smiling gratefully, although that smile looked stiff and frankly, painful.

“It was you, who provided shelter for my wife and son,” he continued his acknowledgements.

That was a drowning man desperately clutching for straws. Teal’c knew what his friend’s statement implied, he just didn’t want to recognize it. Drey’auc looked at him with sorrowful eyes, however before she could say anything Fro’tak took upon himself to clarify this misunderstanding.

“When it appeared that you may never return,” explained the Jaffa, “that you may indeed be dead, Drey’auc had her marriage removed.” He looked into Teal’c’s eyes, not cowering from him. Teal’c turned to Drey’auc, hoping he would see humor or denial on her face, but only met with defiant pride. “She is now my wife, Teal’c.”

That was the coup de grace. It stung in Teal’c’s chest. It hurt more than removing his larva Goa’uld and slowly dying.

“Oh, God!” exclaimed Jack as Teal’c’s hands closed on Fro’tak’s neck and squeezed. Dying by suffocation was an honorless death so Teal’c intended to strangle that traitor until his symbiote couldn’t revive him. Fro’tak tried to deflect him but his efforts were feeble.

“Hey, knock it off!” yelled Jack as he threw himself between the two fighting Jaffa. He grabbed and hugged Teal’c, and pushed him back with all his body. “Come on, knock it off! This doesn’t help!”

For a fearful moment Jack thought that Teal’c could only see red; he would not stop, and then that would be that. He would kill Fro’tak because despite putting all of his bodyweight to the task Jack could still not hold the big Jaffa back. But then Teal’c finally let go. He relaxed his muscles and stepped back, but glared at the other Jaffa murderously.

Fro’tak massaged his abused neck, however didn’t take offense at the aggressive outburst. “I wished to be the one to tell you, old friend. I am sorry.” That confession did not lessen the intensity of Teal’c’s furious glare. Drey’auc could not meet his eyes but Fro’tak met it head on. “We will wait outside,” he declared with a serene voice while he hugged her closer to himself. “We give you time to sort through this… uncomfortable news.” For a moment he looked sad and sympathetic, then his attention shifted to his trembling wife. He helped her to the door while Teal’c followed them with his eyes.

Jack cleared his throat. “Captain Carter, would you go with them? Make sure everything is alright.”

“Yes, sir.” And she was out with them.

As soon as the gate closed Teal’c turned his back on them. He walked to the table and leaned on it, his head hanging low. He seemed like being one thread away from destroying the whole room in his rage. Jack could understand the sentiment; he had an ex-wife too, who divorced him not because they didn’t love each other anymore, but because the pain was unbearable for her after Charlie’s death. That didn’t make any easier when she started seeing other guys. However, judging by the level of wrath Teal’c exhibited, there was betrayal in the picture. Not just by Drey’auc, but by Fro’tak, too.

“Who is this fellow?” Jack asked, trying to piece together said picture.

“He was my friend. We both were Bra’tac’s wards in the Bashaak training,” Teal’c answered through gritted teeth. “I should have killed him.”

“Well, no offence Teal’c, but I don’t think that assessment is born of a cool head.”

“Teal’c.” Daniel stepped closer. He was a silent observer up until now, but he couldn’t let his friend tear himself up in the inside anymore. He had his arms crossed before his chest as he walked closer to the Jaffa – an involuntary protectiveness, for he knew only too well that Teal’c would not like what he had to say. “Look, I know you probably don’t want to hear this now, but I think you need to get some perspective on this. Maybe in a way you should be thanking him.”

Immediately Teal’c straightened and faced him, anger straining his features. “How can you say that, Daniel Jackson? He has betrayed our friendship.”

Daniel remained calm. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, searching for the least offensive words. “If I recall, last time we were here, you were pretty upset about your family being outcasts, barely surviving in a camp because of what you did. I mean, it seems to me they have a better life now.”

“Teal’c, I know it’s tough,” interjected Jack, “but Daniel is right.”

The Jaffa violently pushed himself away from the table, and strode to the door. He opened it, and there stood Drey’auc, wringing her hands and fighting to stay upright and collected. But on Teal’c’s face there was only contempt. “I will meet my son, and see to it that he is well taken care of by Master Bra’tac,” he stated. “After that I will never lay eyes on you again.” And with that Teal’c walked away, never looking back, never seeing how his words broke down Drey’auc’s last protective walls, her stubborn pride, leaving her only miserable.

Teal’c, in his own hurt and desperate state, remained blind to others. He sat down outside the yard on a stone bench, not caring about Captain Carter and the other’s return inside the house. He didn’t know how long he sat on that bench, staring at the ground but seeing nothing, when suddenly a shadow was cast on him. He knew who stood in front of him, and he didn’t want to look up at her. But Drey’auc had enough of it.

“How dare you judge me,” she spoke with venom in her voice, “and dishonor Fro’tak in his own house after what _you_ have done?”

“Woman, be silent.”

“That is not an answer, Teal’c!” Drey’auc yelled. She felt torn apart; she felt righteous anger and guilt at the same time, and her mind couldn’t settle. In her eyes there was scorn, but also pleading as she went on. “You were the one who abandoned _us_!”

To that Teal’c had to look up, his face still a mask of disdainful ire. “What I did was for the future of my people!”

“What I have done is for the future of our son!”

Finally, the Jaffa lowered his head, his features softening at last. He didn’t spoke for a few heartbeats, then, “Perhaps,” he whispered in defeat. Then he looked up again as anger washed him over anew. “But why Fro’tak?”

“Because he was the only one who asked,” replied Drey’auc honestly, not a drop of apology in her strong voice.

“Do you have love for him?”

The question was sudden and unexpected. Drey’auc snatched her eyes away from him, working her jaw. Teal’c slowly stood up and asked her once more, emphasizing every word. “Do you have love for him?”

He looked intimidating, ready to burst out in rage again, to hurt something or somebody. Drey’auc met his eyes daringly. “No, Teal’c,” she admitted levelly. “But Rya’c, our son, deserves a better life than the camps. And Fro’tak has offered it to him.”

Teal’c’s shoulders shagged. Drey’auc, her head raised high, was about to walk away, leaving the man to his own devices, when suddenly small but rapid footsteps sounded behind them.

“Father!”

Rya’c crashed into Teal’c with the might of a boy missing his father. He hugged him fiercely; his wooden staff weapon clacked on the ground where he tossed it, unimportant at the moment.

Teal’c enveloped his son with his arms, his grim face quickly becoming happy and content.

“You returned!” Rya’c rejoiced. “I knew you would return!” He looked at her mother with bright eyes, seeking approbation. Drey’auc nodded then abruptly her eyes doubled with horror.

“What happened to you!?” she cried out as she knelt down next to his son and grabbed his chin.

“Ih wah ah ekhident,” explained Rya’c with his mouth open while his mother inspected his two missing teeth. “We were training with the Bashaak,” continued the boy when he finally got free of Drey’auc’s worried hands, “and Master Bra’tac showed me a new move.”

Said master was standing in the entrance of the yard in a respectful distance, watching the family reunion with a pleased look. “Rya’c is quick on his feet,” the old man said, “but he lacks concentration.” Then he added with a smile, “Greetings, my old friend.”

“Tek’ma’te, Master Bra’tac,” bowed his head Teal’c. Then they met halfway and clapped hands in the warriors’ way. The younger Jaffa had a glad smile on his face, seeing that his old master was indeed taking good care of his son. But then his expression hardened, and he looked back, watching as Drey’auc ushered Rya’c back in the house to tend to his bruises and his famishing hunger. Teal’c remembered well how a training session would make his body sore and his stomach empty. As soon as the door closed behind the two he turned back to Bra’tac with a much darker expression.

“How could you let this happen?” His voice was thick with accusation and grievance. “How could you let my wife do this?”

Bra’tac looked at him sedately, and placed his hand on Teal’c’s shoulder. He knew this would happen sooner or later, and had his words ready. “Teal’c, listen to me. If you were dead, would you wish Drey’auc to remain alone forever?” He spoke with challenge, never breaking the eye-contact.

“I am not dead,” was Teal’c’s childishly obstinate reply.

“In your current situation you may as well be.” The old Jaffa was not amused with him. “How long before you return to provide for her?” Bra’tac was still a teacher to him; his authoritative tone snapped Teal’c into attention. It urged his mind to think. However, Teal’c still clung to his wrong firmly.

“You know I cannot answer this,” he practically spat the words.

“Yes,” Bra’tac nodded dolefully. “As does she.” He sighed and let go of his friend’s shoulder. “Fro’tak has high station in Chulak. Thanks to him, your family is no longer outcast.”

Teal’c looked more tranquil as he chewed on those words, although the angry grimace stayed on his face. He lowered his gaze and Bra’tac considered that as a small victory. The young Jaffa would see reason. May that be, it was better be safe than sorry.

“Before we proceed, give me your word you would not commit Kel Mar Tokeem,” he requested with a serious expression.

“I give you my word,” Teal’c said while giving him the evil eye. But it was done, a Jaffa’s word was his bond. Bra’tac nodded.

“Then come, and join your family,” he added with a lighter tone, and went inside the house, never looking back. It was not needed; Teal’c would follow when he was ready.

 

The long table in the middle of the hall was packed full with exotic food. Jack thought, if anything, this truly could be called exotic cuisine, because what could deserve the term more than food from another planet. And because he couldn’t find another epithet. It wasn’t mouth-watering and certainly wasn’t deliciously-smelling. It was just… exotic.

They all sat around the table: him, Sam, Daniel, Teal’c, Bra’tac, Drey’auc and Fro’tak. After the quarrel, when Teal’c finally cooled his head, he was back and spent all afternoon with his son. The boy was walking five inches high from the ground with happiness – he truly adored his father and looked up to him. In the meantime Drey’auc prepared dinner, and when it became dark outside they sat down at the candlelit table. Like every boy in his age, Rya’c bolted down his meal like a pack of wolves. Everybody wore a polite smile on his or her face while the warriorling was with them – but then the boy had to go in his room upstairs for his Kelno’reem. As a still growing man, he needed the meditation more often than an adult, or so he told them.

Now there was just the seven of them, and all the pretending was flushed down the toilet. There was so much tension in the air, Jack had a real concern that a bolt of lightning would spontaneously form in the room. Most likely between Teal’c and Fro’tak. Or, frankly, between Teal’c and anybody else. Teal’c was definably the discharging point.

Daniel nibbled at the food absentmindedly, seemingly not caring about its taste. Then again, he had an abydosian-cuisine tested stomach. Next to Jack Sam cautiously picked the vegetable lookalikes from the plates and avoided the meat. If anything was green, it had a go. Teal’c hardly ate anything and Jack was with him in that, albeit for different reasons. He wasn’t peevish, simply didn’t want to spend his time in the infirmary with innards rearranging themselves, and with a complexion as sick-green as the bean Carter just crushed between her teeth with a sore expression. He was sure nobody would notice if he sneaked out after dinner to eat a bar of chocolate.

Drey’auc didn’t seem to care about the reluctance her guests displayed towards her homemade food. She eyed only his husband and ex-husband, occasionally glancing towards Rya’c’s room. Only Bra’tak and Fro’tak seemed to enjoy the square meal. Then again, Fro’tak busied himself with the food to avoid Teal’c’s constant gaze, who sat opposite of him, next to his old master. Bra’tac alone was immune to the quiet drama around him.

After an awkward minute (which Jack didn’t comment, because he was a big boy with proper table-manners) Teal’c turned to his mentor.

“What happened here?” It was oblivious he didn’t mean the house.

Bra’tac put down his knife and swallowed well-manneredly the bite he just had before answering. “When the news about Apophis’ death reached us,” he looked at the Tau’ri people meaningfully, “many of our fellow warriors didn’t believe it first. But when time passed and Apophis still didn’t return, it became clear that Chulak was no longer under his rule.”

“Then finally our people are free,” stated Teal’c with sedate jubilation.

“One can only be free if one is freed oneself in one’s mind,” the old master replied wisely.

“A lot of our warriors still believe that the Goa’uld are gods,” explained Fro’tak. “They went to find themselves new masters.”

“So that’s why this place is so desolated,” noted Daniel.

“The Jaffa don’t know any life apart from being a warrior.” Drey’auc’s sober words carried the hard truth. “Many of them are scared by the change, and rather find another god to serve and fight for, then alter their ways.”

“The Goa’uld are not gods,” Teal’c reprimanded her coldly.

“I’m still not convinced, as are they,” she shot back testily.

“Gods or not gods,” Fro’tak cut in, “we need something to eat. We’re not farmers, Teal’c. Without the Goa’uld how do you think we could feed our family? How will our children live past the Age of Prata without the larvae? How will we stay alive, when our prim’ta is mature enough to leave our body?”

The forlorn look on Teal’c’s face spoke louder than any words. He turned his head to hide it. “I do not know,” he whispered brokenly.

Bra’tac placed his hand on the big Jaffa’s shoulder, and squeezed it reassuringly. He looked at his old friend but spoke to everybody. “There is still hope. Some of the warriors returned with strange rumors about a man calling himself the Regis. When I visited our sister-tribes, I heard more and more stories of him.”

Now that got Jack’s attention. Even Sam and Daniel straightened themselves in their seats. Seeing their reaction Bra’tac raised his eyebrows curiously and continued his tale.

“They say he traveled to many planets, confronted many Goa’uld underlords, and killed them. They say he has no quarrel with the Jaffa, only with the false gods. I did not see it myself but many Jaffa claims they were there when this Regis killed their master and gave them a choice to fight or go home.”

Fro’tak took over excitedly. “Every planet he frees, he promises protection and freedom. He does not want warriors to fight for him, does not want worship, only peace among us.”

Jack had to smile. “Yeah, we met the guy. Sounds like him.”

“He is indeed a friend of the Jaffa,” Teal’c affirmed.

“Actually, it was he who defeated Apophis,” Daniel confessed honestly.

“He’s agreed to be an ally of us against the Goa’uld,” Sam added. “I think he could help you.”

“His favorite color is black, if you want to send him a thank-you present,” beamed Jack.

Bra’tac and Fro’tak nodded thoughtfully. This was a great concern for the Jaffa, and needed to be discussed. But not here and not now.

Afterwards the conversation turned back to the topic of Jaffa daily life. Jack had no idea, but in this society even the women were taught to be warriors. That would explain the lack of cooking skills, tho. Everything they had they looted from other communities when they raided human villages on the slave-planets, or hostile Jaffa settlement when the Goa’uld had internal wars. They had a method of trade but mostly lived off of the enslaved territories’ taxation, paid by human hosts for the Goa’uld and crops for the Jaffa. However, without Apophis as a strong, unifying hand, the Jaffa could not enforce the taxing, nor could raid. Especially with the Regis in the picture who now had many formerly enslaved worlds under his protective wings. Life for the Jaffa as it had been was no longer possible, and that change had taken its toll on them.

Jack listened in the conversation between Teal’c, Bra’tac, Fro’tak and Drey’auc. Silently he had his sympathies, but couldn’t offer anything except a few witty remarks to lighten the mood. He already had a plan forming in his head about how to approach Hammond and ask permission to ship basic supplies here. They couldn’t help every abandoned Jaffa home-planet, but Chulak was personal. It was Teal’c’s home. Then again, Jack was fairly sure the Regis would take care of the masterless Jaffa worlds. Well, if the Jaffa would accept him and not fight him.

Jack shook his head. It was not his problem. He had enough problems as it was, and truly didn’t need even more headaches and complications. He would worry about Earth and leave the worry about other planets to a man megalomaniac enough to rule over entire galaxies. His choice, his paperwork.

Daniel seemed to forget every problem of his own and concentrated on the talking, taking notes feverously. As a self-proclaimed anthropologist, the topic was fascinating for him. Jack was sure his friend planned to write an entire book of study about the Jaffa culture and society. Ha was also sure it would be a book more than a thousand pages long, and Daniel would write it in the length of one night. The Colonel had the suspicion that he and Sam had some hidden device that could manipulate time or something. How the hell else could they work so fast in so little time? They even forgot to eat, for God’s sake! Eat! How could someone forgot to eat in favor of working? That didn’t make any sense. He would have joked about the two not being human, but in their position that joke wasn’t funny anymore. That was a sad thought.

Sam paid attention too, she even asked a few questions, but mostly occupied herself with her drink, trying to wash out the foul taste in her mouth. She was adventurous and brave enough to sample every harmless looking food, and she paid the price for it. She tried to be politely inconspicuous in her effort, but Jack noticed the twitches of her mouth and the bitter looks. Now that their hosts were engrossed in a very important discussion, he sneakily unwrapped a chocolate bar under the table, broke it half, and handed one piece to Carter while he chowed his half down in one go. Sam arched her eyebrows at him, then took it and ate it with a grateful and pleased expression. She had good humor in her eyes as they exchanged looks like two little kid daring their mother’s wrath. Then the moment was over, and they both knew they would never speak about it ever again. If Daniel saw their sharing, he did not mention it.

After a while, when the chatting died down and even Teal’c seemed more at ease with Drey’auc and Fro’tak, the big warrior went upstairs to say farewell to his son. This trip was a social call – the rest of SG-1 tagged along only because they were concerned about their friend – and Hammond gave them strict orders. They had to be back, or report back in 24 hours. It was late enough to go.

Bra’tac alone accompanied them on the way back to the Stargate. While Daniel dialed home Jack handed a GDO to the master Jaffa and explained its use. After everything that happened the Colonel got Hammond’s consent to treat Teal’c’s old mentor as a friend and ally of the human race. When all was done Teal’c and Bra’tac clapped hands again as a heartfelt goodbye.

“Once again I owe you my thanks,” the younger Jaffa said with respect and deep gratitude.

“You owe me nothing,” Bra’tac deflected. “You have made an old teacher proud.” He smiled pridefully to Teal’c and they both placed their hand above the other’s heart. It was a true, intimate gesture between old friends and loyal companions. It spoke louder about their deep bond than any word could. They were not only mentor and pupil; Bra’tac was like a father to Teal’c, and Teal’c was a son Bra’tac never had.

The big Jaffa was the last to step into the Stargate after his teammates, and he turned back one last time to look over Chulak with reconciliation in his heart. Drey’auc’s betrayal still hurt him, but he could finally see with unclouded eyes. His son was in good hands – Bra’tac would care for him like a grandfather would. His family was safe here, and like it or not, Fro’tak provided them protection in every sense of the word. He did not mistreat his wife, but had great respect for her, and that respect and love extended over Rya’c.

Teal’c knew he would be back as often as possible, since without Apophis Chulak was no threat and was just a step away from him through the Stargate. He would be there for Rya’c, and – he couldn’t lie to himself – even for Drey’auc. But for now, he could concentrate on defeating the Goa’uld and freeing all the enslaved Jaffa, to ensure that in the future nothing could ever come between him and his family.

Teal’c returned home with peace in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, nothing really happens in this chapter, it just ties up some loose ends. More precisely it ties up the loose end of the storyline of Teal’c’s family. Drey’auc will never again appear in the TV-show, and Rya’c is a mere plot-device in the rare occasions he shows up. It’s like the showrunners thought “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to Teal’c to have a family?” and then “Nah, it just complicates things”. Let’s face it, the creators hated wives – they killed off or wrote out every one of them for the shake of fleeting love-interests. Brrrr.  
> Now, about the differences I made in this episode, first I have to say that there was no chance for SGC to give Bra’tac an Iris code before – the last time they met was in the ‘S01E12 Bloodlines’ episode, where they parted with knowing that Drey’auc land Rya’c was okay, and Bra’tac promised to look after them. However, Teal’c must have wanted to go home sometimes to see if his family was alright; he’s not the type of person who would abandon them completely.  
> Fro’tak was a traitor in the original episode, but it was never said that he was on Apophis’ side from the beginning. I believe he only betrayed Teal’c because he saw that kiss between him and Drey’auc and he was jealous, for he obviously loved Drey’auc; and in that rageful, ill-considered moment he wanted his rival out of the picture.  
> Also, I know Fro’tak had a silver tattoo, not gold, but… we never again see a silver emblem, we don’t know its precise meaning, so consider my change artistic freedom.  
> Again, I didn’t intend to go into the Jaffa’s everyday life this much, but it sort of happened. We knew very little about the Jaffa hinterlands, how the families on the home-planet live.


	9. S02E09 Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the long hiatus; I started writing another project. But now, hopefully, I will return to this fanfic. :)  
> I didn’t think it would come so early in the fanfic but this chapter contains disturbing and bloody descriptions therefore I’m changing the rating to Mature. I think I also have to put a trigger warning here for failed childbirth. (Some of my readers may come to be angry with me for my choices in this chapter. I’m sorry. I have my reasons and I will explain it at the end of the chapter.)

“Sha’re!”

Daniel couldn’t believe he made it, that after all the struggle and desperate hoping he finally found his wife. After one long year the Stargate of Abydos was unburied as promised and here he was, standing in Kasuf’s tent, looking at the woman he loved. He knew very well that the figure with the dark, curly mess of a hair, tanned skin and angelic face ( _Oh God, she was still so beautiful!_ ) was no longer his beloved but a Goa’uld named Amaunet, who stole her body. But even knowing that Daniel couldn’t help himself, he had to call out to her the moment his eyes fell on her, sitting inside the tent. And she looked at him, _recognized_ him, and stood up with an oh-so-wonderful smile on her face…

And at that moment the illusion broke. Daniel had months to prepare himself for the sight but reality was always crueler than imagination. Sha’re’s belly was round with the baby of Apophis, as big as a ninth month pregnancy. When she saw the darkening expression on his face her smile wavered, she became frightened and her eyes pleadingly locked with his.

Daniel thought he could do this. He had stepped through the Stargate confidently, with Teal’c as his only companion. Jack and Sam had gone to Washington to receive a medal from the President for their heroic deeds on Apophis’ ships. It was their bad luck that the two dates coincided but they had a plan nonetheless. Daniel and Teal’c would go to Abydos, packed lightly. They would capture Amaunet – Teal’c brought weapons to threaten and Daniel had a light sedative prepared by Dr. Fraiser if push came to shove – and they would bring her back to SGC where she and the baby would be safe until they could ask the Regis to remove the Goa’uld from within her.

It was a simple, swift plan without complications; Daniel loved Sha’re but had no kind feelings toward the parasite that took her. And hard to say, but he had no love for the unborn baby either, whether it was part of Sha’re or not.

However, right now the woman standing before him looked in every inch like his Sha’re and he hated it, hated the deception. Teal’c must have sensed his conflict because he stepped forth and began to execute their plan by pointing a Zat at her.

Kasuf immediately stood between them. “No! Take my life in exchange.”

That reaction effectively shook Daniel out of his stupor. It meant that the old man didn’t know that it was not his daughter he was protecting anymore. It made Daniel more confused. And angrier.

“Nobody is killing anybody,” he declared while putting his hand placatingly on the Jaffa’s raised arm. Teal’c did not put down the weapon, only glanced at the archaeologist. He must have reached the same conclusion as his friend because his next worlds were directed at Kasuf.

“Sha’re is no longer your daughter.”

Before Daniel could explain everything to his father-in-law who looked more puzzled by every passing moment, the abomination inside Sha’re’s head did something crueler than the archaeologist thought any creature would be capable of. It pretended to be his wife. It called him ‘husband’ like Sha’re used to, it pleaded and begged, thrusting a knife into his heart each time she tried to assure him that she was his wife, _his_ Sha’re. And when he snapped at her coldly, she even retreated behind the confused Kasuf whom she had successfully fooled. It made Daniel sick in his stomach. Fury and despair gushed out from him in a venomous yell.

“Stop it! Just stop it! You can’t fool me! I know what you are! I’ve seen what you are!”

With one last hopeless attempt to persuade his husband, Sha’re stepped forward, locking eyes with Daniel.

“Please, believe me! The demon sleeps because I am with child.” That statement won a baffled look from everybody. Sha’re took a shaky breath and continued her forlorn explanation. “Hear me, husband! The Goa’uld that has stolen my soul is called Amaunet. She sleeps for the sake of the child.”

They already knew about Amaunet thanks to the Regis, but the part about it being dormant during the pregnancy was new and Daniel had a hard time believing it, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Why?” he asked simply.

“If she awakens, the child will come forth stillborn.”

Daniel didn’t know how to react to that. Teal’c’s eyebrow was raised, Kasuf was utterly lost and the archaeologist felt like he was inside a nightmare. Seeing the disbelief and contempt in her husband’s eyes Sha’re’s features painfully twisted as she started to cry hopelessly, burying her face in her father’s clothes. Daniel had to turn aside to think clearly. Next to him the big Jaffa lowered his Zat at last, while Kasuf sat down with his brokenly sobbing daughter in his embrace.

Daniel tried to shut out the sounds, tried to shut out everything. He closed his eyes and massaged the base of his nose with a wild attempt to concentrate only on the facts and not his fiercely beating heart. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He knew what had happened to Sha’re and nothing was the woman’s fault. He was beating out his anger on the wrong target because if what Sha’re said was true than the woman before her was really his wife and not a Goa’uld. The victim of rape and abuse, and not the perpetrator.

And he not only had failed to protect her but hurt her even more.

“Sha’re,” he spoke with a softer tone as he turned back towards her. When he saw the pair sitting on the floor his shame deepened. “I… we have already known about Amaunet and the baby,” he confessed which gained him an abashing glare from his father-in-law. He had to divert his eyes. Finally, after a moment or two, he straightened himself. “I’d like a moment with my wife. Alone.”

Teal’c nodded and left. Kasuf had a harder time leaving his upset daughter but eventually he did. On his way out he reassuringly squeezed Daniel’s shoulder which the archaeologist took as an offering of peace.

Sha’re wiped the tears off her face and stood up. “You hate me.” She couldn’t even look at him as she breathed out the sorrowful words.

“No,” Daniel denied. “No, I love you.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“Oh God!” That was the last straw. Every ounce of anger, frustration and shame melted away inside him and he hurried to the woman he truly, utterly loved, and finally embraced her. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he whispered hoarsely as he buried his face in his wife’s unruly hair. After a moment that felt like years, Sha’re unfolded herself from his hug and turned her back to him.

“I am so ashamed.”

Daniel gripped her shoulders and placed a tender kiss on her neck. “I hate what’s been done to you. I hate what Apophis planed for the child growing inside of you. But he’s dead now and can’t hurt you anymore. Look at me.” He fondly held her chin between his thumb and index finger and turned her head towards himself, locking their gaze together. “I love you,” he smiled. “Everything else…” He shook his head. “I love you.”

“Oh!” The tears on Sha’re’s cheeks were now the tears of happiness and relief. Daniel cupped her head with two hands and touched his forehead to hers. For a long moment they remained that way, cherishing the closeness they shared and the touch and scent they both missed in the last year.

In the end Sha’re broke the silence. “Will you stay?”

Daniel caressed his beloved’s cheeks with his thumbs as he honestly replied. “I can’t.” Seeing the dispiritedness on Sha’re’s face he leant back to show his wife the seriousness of his expression. “Because I want you to come home with me.”

Sha’re, as an answer, sobbed and snuggled closer to him, hiding her face in his clothes and Daniel was more than happy to hold her and sooth her while her shoulders gently trembled. They stood there for long minutes, not wanting to move even an inch away from each other.

“Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c’s polite voice came from the entrance of the tent. He didn’t want to disturb the reunited couple but they were pressed for time. “We must return with Sha’re through the Stargate immediately. Within a matter of days Sha’re will give birth and the Goa’uld within her will be awakened.”

Daniel shakily nodded. “Yes, of course,” he sighed and stepped back from the woman. “Please, come back in,” he added with louder voice and the Jaffa entered with Kasuf in tow. “Please, sit,” the archaeologist gestured towards the hearth of the tent where cushions were placed on the ground in a circle. “We need to talk, good father.”

When they all sat down Daniel quickly laid out their plan to take Sha’re with them to Earth where she could be safe.

“But…” the woman hesitated. “After the child is born, the demon within me will awaken again. She will punish the child for my disobedience.”

“We will not allow it,” Teal’c replied. “The Goa’uld will have become our prisoner.”

“We’ll have time together until the child is born.” Daniel handed a cup of hot tea to Sha’re to calm her nerves. “You will be asked what you remember of the Goa’uld but I will be there the whole time. I won’t let them hurt you,” he assured her. “Then, when it’s safe, we will remove the Goa’uld within you.”

Sha’re glanced at her father then looked back at him in disbelief. “You can do that?”

The big Jaffa next to Kasuf nodded. “A great ally of ours who calls himself the Regis is capable of safely separating a symbiote from its host.”

Sha’re’s face brightened with hope, however Kasuf remained staring at the fire, deep in thoughts. “Apophis will return,” he stated sternly. “If she’s gone he will destroy the whole village.”

“No,” Daniel cut in. “Apophis is dead. The Regis we mentioned, he killed him.”

That news perked the old man’s head up. He stared at Teal’c and Daniel with wide eyes then briskly waved at her daughter. “Go with them!”

“You can’t just… tell her like that.” Daniel reprimanded him but Kasuf looked at him indignantly.

“I’m her father,” he insisted like that explained everything. Well, in the social structure of Abydos, it did. Daniel sighed.

“Sha’re,” he turned to the woman and spoke in a clear voice. “I won’t force you.”

She didn’t hesitate this time. “I will come with you, my Daniel.”

It was the final word Teal’c was waiting for. “Then we must leave now.”

They packed nothing and the goodbyes between father and daughter were short and pithy. Everything went smoothly; not half an hour had passed and the three of them were already on their way to the pyramidal temple that housed the Stargate. They were entering the inner sanctuary in a haste when Sha’re abruptly stopped.

“Daniel, can you hear it?”

“Hear what?” Daniel halted before the DHD and glanced back at his wife who was franticly looking around in the room. “What’s wrong?”

In that moment the earth began to shake; the ancient stone walls trembled around them and dust drizzled from the ceiling. Teal’c was the first who recognized the signs.

“A Goa’uld ship approaches.”

_Of course_ , Daniel thought. The temple was a landing platform for the pyramid-shaped Ha’taks – one must have descended upon it. But which Goa’uld came here and why?

Suddenly Sha’re tore her hand away from Daniel’s and backed away from them. The archaeologist turned around puzzled by his wife’s behavior. “Sha’re, what’s wrong?” He had to shout over the rumbling noise. Then the blood froze in his veins as Sha’re’s eyes flashed white.

“My lord comes for me,” she declared with a deep, doubled voice. Teal’c immediately activated his Zat but Daniel pushed his raised arm aside with a cry of “No!” The Jaffa looked at him questioningly but the archaeologist’s focus was entirely on his wife.

“Sha’re, fight this thing!” Not caring about the danger he stepped closer to the woman, cupping her head with two hands. “You have to hold on a little longer, please!”

Sha’re swayed, blinked a few times then looked up at her husband with confusion. “Daniel?”

The archaeologist took a deep breath in relief; behind him Teal’c lowered his weapon.

“It’s okay. It’s gone now,” Daniel reassured them while soothingly caressed his wife’s cheeks with his thumbs. But Sha’re’s face twisted with pain and she doubled over.

“Daniel!” she yelled with agony and fear. The archaeologist tried to hold her upright but both of them ended up sliding down to the ground.

“Teal’c!” Daniel called out in panic. “I think she just went into labor!”

“The Goa’uld’s return may have induced it.” The Jaffa hurriedly went to the DHD to dial Earth. However, he could only push two glyphs when the Ha’tak finally finished its landing and the transportation rings began to descend from the ceiling, indicating that the unknown Goa’uld and a party of Jaffa would soon arrive. They would be outnumbered.

There was no time to finish the dialing.

“Daniel Jackson! We must leave now!” Teal’c did not wait for an answer, he simply grabbed Sha’re’s arm while Daniel grabbed the other and the two men half escorted, half dragged the feeble woman out of the temple. As soon as they turned around the corner Teal’c heard the matter stream enter the rings and the teleported bodies materialize. They had to get out of there quickly. Whoever this new Goa’uld was, he was definitely here for Amaunet and the child, and Teal’c, as ex-First Prime, knew all too well the fate of a minor Goa’uld in the hands of its enemy. Especially if vendetta was in the picture, and it was well known that Apophis had had many enemies.

“We need to hide,” he hissed silently while they swiftly retreated towards the village. That wouldn’t do – the settlement would be the first place the Goa’uld would look.

“I know a place,” nodded Daniel, and with Sha’re between them the two SG-1 members turned towards the naquadah mine that scarred the side of the distant rocky hills.

In the cover of the sand dunes they managed to fall back inside the caves. After the defeat of Ra, Daniel himself supervised the reconstruction of these carved halls and labyrinth-like corridors. They made it as a secondary safe-house during sandstorms or as a hiding place in the remote chance of another Goa’uld raid. It was hard to navigate through the cave-system for anybody who didn’t live there and its alcoves and small passageways made it a perfect, defensible location. Moreover, the bigger halls were already equipped for living in. Daniel headed for a room like that and hoped that in the past year nobody disturbed the furnishing. They were in luck. The spacious room was lit by candles, and a hearth was dug in the middle with an iron caldron for boiling water. There was also a higher alcove with a flat surface which was covered with furs and functioned as a bed. Daniel helped Sha’re onto it while Teal’c hurried to ignite a fire inside the hearth. He seethed a cloth in a basin of water and passed it to Daniel who by then arranged Sha’re on the bed with wide-spread legs, leaning with her back to him. He supported the thrashing woman while gently wiped off the sweat from her forehead with the cloth.

“When the pain comes, you have to breathe,” he said calming but Sha’re was frightened and hectic.

“It comes too soon,” she moaned between two heavy breaths.

“The baby will be fine. Just worry about getting through this yourself.”

“When the child comes forth, the demon will return!”

“I know.”

“Apophis comes for me!” Sha’re had a feverish gleam in her eyes as she desperately clenched his husband’s robe.

“Sha’re, believe me, Apophis is dead. He cannot hurt you anymore.”

“It was not the ship of Apophis,” concurred Teal’c. “When we escaped I saw its mark; it was that of Heru’ur.”

This did not calm down Sha’re. “He is a great enemy of Apophis,” she asserted with absolute surety. “He will take my child. Ah, Daniel!” The pain was back and her head fall backwards with a moan.

“It’s okay, breathe! Breathe,” he tried to soothe her. “This is where we hid from Ra, remember?”

“I– I remember…”

“We’re safe here.”

“You are incorrect, Daniel Jackson,” cut in Teal’c with a monotone, sonorous voice. “If it is Sha’re that Heru’ur seeks, he will find us. We cannot remain.”

Daniel glared at the big Jaffa. “Well, I am not leaving her.”

For a second Teal’c’s eyes fluttered to the side, contemplating, then he nodded. “Then I will do what I can to keep the Horus Guards away from you.” And with that he was out of the cave.

Sha’re wheezed but managed a weak smile. “You do love me.”

Daniel continued to clean and cool her with the wet cloth. “Yes, I do,” he answered and kissed her cheek. “I do–”

“Daniel!” she screamed suddenly, her whole body arching with the pain.

“It’s all right, Sha’re.” He quickly laid down the woman and knelt between her legs to help with the birth. “Push!”

“No!” she screamed while the agony twisted her body. “The demon will come back!”

“You have to push!” Daniel tried to steady her, to help her any way he could but this was an unfamiliar scenario even for him. Never in his life had he helped delivering a baby; he had only read about the various traditions and costumes attached to this event in different cultures. However, no protective amulets or singing incantations would do any good right now.

“But I will lose you, Daniel!” She writhed with pain and was barely coherent. “Please!”

“Look at me,” the archaeologist shouted, desperately wanting to help his wife, to tell her that everything will be all right. “I love you. I will always love you. You understand? The Goa’uld can never take that away from us. Never!”

For a moment Sha’re looked at him with clear eyes and opened her mouth to reply – but then her body squirmed from spasms again. “Agh, Daniel! The pain comes again!”

“I’m here.” That was the only thing he could say, over and over again while Sha’re screamed and gasped for breath. “The baby’s here!” he exclaimed when he noticed the scalp of the little head between her bloody thighs. “Now you have to push!” And Sha’re did. She took short and even breaths and pushed, but the baby’s head didn’t move closer. It was her first childbirth and her pelvis wasn’t wide enough – the baby was stuck. Sha’re was screaming in agony. She was losing concentration and strength to push.

And he didn’t know what to do.

Maybe if he had a knife or something sharp he could… no, he didn’t know what to cut. He could injure the baby or sever an artery. And he didn’t have anything to sterilize the equipment or the wound and an infection would surly kill the woman. His only hope was that Sha’re was strong enough to endure.

“Push!” He instructed her with a burst of panic but he didn’t think she could hear him anymore. She was in so much pain and still the baby didn’t move. If it stayed like this… Daniel couldn’t think anymore. He mindlessly begged and pleaded that Sha’re should hold on, just push a little more, it was almost over… he didn’t know what to do more. He truly didn’t know what to do. He just did not know _what to do_!

Sha’re’s hand was a deathgrip on Daniel’s, and she kept screaming and sobbing for minutes that felt like eternity, when suddenly the unmistakable sound of a Zat’nik’tel activating was heard behind them. At the next moment the gun’s blast hit Sha’re’s body once, twice – and the woman collapsed to the bed, motionless. Silent. Her head lolled to the side; her eyes were closed and her features smoothed out from the strains of failed childbirth.

“NO!” bellowed Daniel and he reached after his wife in a frantic, shocked state. “No! Sha’re!”

“I am sorry, Daniel Jackson,” came Teal’c’s quiet, grieving voice from behind the archaeologist. He stood at the edge of the alcove dressed in the warrior attire of the Heru’ur Jaffa with the Zat in his hand.

“How dare you!” Daniel spat out the words as he glared at him over the dead body of his wife. He was refusing to let her go and hugged her closer with clenched fists. “She was my wife!” he roared with furious madness. “She was giving birth!”

“She was dying,” snapped the Jaffa, the cold truth rolling from his tongue with cutting edge. “I have seen many deliveries in Chulak among the Serpent Jaffa. She wouldn’t have made it; even a Prim’ta couldn’t help in that. She was in pain, and the child was probably dead inside her – Amaunet came forth too early.” His stern, harsh tone was like daggers aimed at Daniel’s heart. He couldn’t reply. He couldn’t move and couldn’t think. “You couldn’t have done anything,” added Teal’c with a softer tone when he saw the blankness of his friend’s eyes.

Outside a rumble of staff-weapon blast echoed through the corridors. Heru’ur’s Jaffa arrived. Teal’c had saved Kasuf from one of the warriors and had taken his uniform to disguise himself but the Horus Guards were many; they must have found the entrance of the caves. Now it was only a matter of time until they found this room.

“I am truly sorry Daniel Jackson,” repeated the big Jaffa and then he fired a third shot. The blue electricity ran through Sha’re’s form, scorched the archaeologist’s hands and disintegrated the woman’s body with the baby inside her. Nothing remained on the fur-coated rock, only blood.

Daniel didn’t react. His eyes were fixated on the spot where his wife had lain a moment ago, his hands hovered in the air like he could still touch her. He couldn’t comprehend what just happened, his brain simply shut down. He couldn’t utter a word, just stared ahead while his vision became blurred by the unshed tears.

Teal’c had no time to think twice. There was a place to grieve and a place to survive. He activated the hawk-headed helmet to hide his face and grabbed his friend. The archaeologist was in a catatonic stupor; he didn’t react to anything, didn’t resist. Teal’c had to drag him to the exit which at least made his pretense more believable.

“I captured this human in the cave,” he reported authoritatively to the Horus Guards who came towards them from the entrance of the cave-system with raised Ma’tok staffs. “I found nobody else.”

One of the Jaffa grunted with displeasure. “Take him to the lord to question. He might know something if he was hiding here.”

Teal’c obeyed. They had no other escape route but the Stargate and Heru’ur was most likely camping out at the inner temple, close to the transporter rings so he could flee in case something went wrong. If there was anything that was grander than the Goa’uld’s arrogance, it was their cowardice.

The other Jaffa passed them to search the mines again but one guard from outside escorted them back to the temple, just to make sure no rebels would try to attack them to free their friend. Teal’c gritted his teeth under the helmet as their options of escape slowly but steadily narrowed down to a single digit. This did not look good, and to top it all, he couldn’t rely on Daniel Jackson because the archaeologist was behaving like the living dead. Like those zombies from one of Jack O’Neill’s so called horror movies.

Heru’ur was indeed waiting for them in the inner sector of the temple where the Stargate stood, with three of his Jaffa as bodyguards. In this closed space with his incapacitated teammate Teal’c was outnumbered. The Jaffa’s mind reeled. Maybe he could take the Goa’uld if he could diminish the numbers of the Horus Guards by making Heru’ur dismissing them. Or he could divert their attention and strike from behind. Maybe…

“My lord,” he respectfully greeted the Goa’uld as he stopped next to the DHD. He let go Daniel’s arm in favor of handling his staff weapon with two hands. The archaeologist slumped to the ground like a stringless doll, staring ahead with glassy eyes.

“Kel shak, Jaffa?” barked Heru’ur. He stepped down from the stairs leading up to the Stargate and came closer, within an arms-reach of Teal’c; however, the three other Jaffa also tightened their line behind their god.

“Kel shak, Heru’ur,” repeated Teal’c. “Apophis’s Queen and child are nowhere to be found. They might not be here.” He was once a First Prime; delivering bad news without a hint of uncertainty was his specialty. He knew if he was confident enough the Goa’uld would not question his report; it wasn’t by chance that he had won and had kept the golden emblem on his forehead for decades. He knew how to play his lord in certain ways. As he hoped, Heru’ur did not challenge his statement. In fact, the Goa’uld didn’t say anything; only a twitch of muscle on his temple betrayed his great disappointment and flaring temper. Then he glanced at the kneeling man at his feet.

“Who is this human?”

“I found him hiding in the mines. He claims–” He couldn’t finish his sentence as the chevrons on the Stargate suddenly came alive. Someone was dialing Abydos. “My lord, the Stargate!”

Heru’ur turned around without haste and leisurely waved at his Jaffa. “Somebody comes. Stand ready!”

The three Horus Guards and Teal’c took their positions on both side of the stairway and pointed their weapons at the Stargate. Whoever would come out, if Heru’ur gave the signal, they would blast them back into the event horizon.

As all the chevrons lit up and the gate activated with the unstable vortex bursting out of its surface, Teal’c pushed the hawk-headed Jaffa standing beside him inside the erupting kawoosh. His improvised action cost him the head of his Ma’tok staff, however by the time the two other warriors opposite him noticed his trickery he had already grabbed his Zat gun. The Stargate had still not settled when Teal’c took out another Jaffa. Unfortunately, the last Horus Guard had enough time to react and fire at him. His blast hit Teal’c in his shoulder and the force of it threw him back to a column, knocking the breath out of him; but it also kept him upright just enough to shot his attacker.

Heru’ur watched with a sneer as all four Jaffa hit the ground. Not being a nervous type he simply activated his personal shield – just in time for the arrival of two other armed humans.

“Kree!” he shouted and aimed his hand device at them.

“What the hell…?” Jack could only utter out so much. He expected a lot of things when they decided that Daniel’s mission took long enough and they should pay a visit, but he certainly did not expect this. His life-motto was failing him again. Let’s face it, four knocked out Jaffa, a pompous Goa’uld and Daniel on his knees was not the scenery he prepared himself when he stepped through the Stargate with Sam.

_Well, no time to piece it together now_ , Jack thought. The Kara kesh on the Goa’uld’s hand looked positively loaded so he pushed Sam to the nearest cover as quickly as possible. Not the best option as the force of the hand device could easily smash stone, however the moment Heru’ur released the blast Daniel jumped forward and shoved his arm aside. A part of the ceiling harmlessly blew up just when Sam and Jack dived behind a column next to the disguised Teal’c. Heru’ur meanwhile irately backhanded Daniel who hit the ground hard and did not get up again.

“Cover me,” ordered Jack in a whisper and Sam purposefully stepped out and shot the two twitching Jaffa at the other side with her Zat, killing and disintegrating them as hers where the second and third shot. With his path cleared, Jack jumped out onto the stairway and supplied the Goa’uld with a handful of bullets – all of them rebounded from his orange-glowy shield, of course. That didn’t stop Jack from unloading another magazine, just to be sure.

“You dare challenge me?” thundered the unhurt System Lord indignantly and turned his palm towards him to use his Kara kesh again.

Jack grimaced and pulled out his army knife. If he remembered correctly, anything slow enough not to be a big threat could go through the energy shield. “I was thinkin’ about it,” he replied and threw the knife with deadly precision. It passed over the orangeness and pierced through Heru’ur’s hand exactly where the glowing red gem was. Bullseye.

The damaged device sparkled uncontrollably and the Goa’uld hissed at him angrily. “You’ll pay for this insolence!” he promised as he hit the button to activate the transportation rings. Jack could only watch with gritted teeth as the rings descended around Heru’ur and the snakehead disappeared in a flash of light.

“Teal’c?”

Hearing Sam’s stunned voice Jack turned around. Teal’c was indeed sitting at the base of the column dressed in the uniform of the Horus Jaffa. He was hurt but not badly. Across the room Daniel was still trying gather himself up from the floor. Jack looked around utterly confused.

“Somebody explain what just happened.” He stopped and looked around again. “And where’s Sha’re?”

 

“Does he still not eat?” Sam asked with a lowered voice as she stopped next to Janet. The doctor was reading through some medical reports outside of the infirmary. Inside, on one of the beds lay Daniel. Two days passed since the horrible events but the archaeologist’s condition didn’t improve. He was as good as catatonic with grief when they had taken him back to SGC and he did not move from his hospital bed since. He did not eat, hardly spoke and downright refused to be in the presence of Teal’c. The big Jaffa explained everything that happened and, well, Sam needed a full day and a sleepless night to process the horror and tragedy of the events. She had her own fears and reservations towards pregnancy and childbirth, all women did. But what had happened to Sha’re was out of a nightmare. She couldn’t even imagine how Daniel must have felt, living through that nightmare.

Janet glanced back inside the room and hummed. “Yes.” She closed the dossiers and lowered her voice. “In the medical sense he is alright. In all the other ways…” She shook her head. “I will keep him in bed for a little longer but a friendly company would be good for him,” she added with a knowing smile and a nod towards pastry-bag in Sam’s hand. Sam nodded back, however before she could enter the sickroom Janet gently placed a hand on her arm.

“I heard about your father,” she admitted commiseratively. “I’m sorry.”

Sam’s throat closed up. “Thanks.” That was all she could say. The throbbing feeling in her heart was still too fresh.

While Daniel and Teal’c went to Abydos she and the Colonel were in Washington to attend a medal ceremony, where her father – who was also a General in the Air Force – showed up. The two of them had a complicated relationship but the news about him having lymphoma hit her like a truck. Worst of all was that they departed on not the best of terms; her father, not knowing what was she really doing in Cheyenne Mountain, tried to push her for a NASA membership to be able to ‘actually go to space,’ as he said; and he took offense when she rejected it. He left the ceremony without as much as a goodbye.

“There’s a doctor in Helsinki I know,” announce Janet determinedly, “who developed a new treatment. It’s still in the experimental stage, but I can ask for a few favors and–”

“Thank you,” Sam interrupted her. She appreciated the gesture of course, but she was sure her father had already saw all the doctors his Air Force General’s salary could afford. He wasn’t a man who gave up easily. Nevertheless, she gratefully smiled at the woman and Janet returned it with a reassuring squeeze with her hand. Then she walked away, leaving the two SG-1 members with some privacy.

Sam took a deep breath, banished her useless worrying from her mind and knocked on the infirmary’s door. “Hi.”

Daniel sat on the bed with his back propped up by a pillow, looking intently at a black ballpoint pen he held before his face.

“Hi,” he replied faintly, glancing up at the woman only for a moment, then he returned his gaze to the pen he was twirling between his fingers. Sam forced a quick smile on her face as she stepped inside the room.

“I brought you some of these chocolate walnut cookies that you love so much.” She lifted the paper bag to show him but again Daniel barely looked at it.

“Thank you.”

Not knowing what to do or say, Sam simply put the bag on the nightstand next to the bed. To her surprise Daniel, with the pen still in his hands, continued talking.

“You’ve ever really studied one of these?”

Sam felt like a huge boulder had rolled off her heart. Up until now Daniel barely replied yes or no to their inquiries. His question, however out of the blue, was definitely an improvement.

“A pen?” she asked back as she animatedly sat onto the edge of the bed. She didn’t want to let this new-found talkativeness die down.

Daniel held up the writing tool vertically between his thumb and index finger and absentmindedly wiggled it.

“I spent half my life studying the history of the written word, including how various cultures recorded things through the ages… from hammers and chisels to quills and ink.” He did not take his eyes off the ball pen. “But I never stopped once to recognize the ingenuity of this simple little piece of technology that we use.

After the first team left me on Abydos, Sha’re saw me writing in my journal and thought the ballpoint I was using was magic.” A small, nostalgic smile appeared on his face. Sam had to smile too, imagining that sweet little scene. But the smile quickly faded from Daniel’s face. “A little device like this pen was such a wonder to her,” his voice cracked and his features twisted with restrained sorrow. “The simplest things were a wonder to her.”

Sam was also holding back tears but she took control of her voice. “Daniel, it’s healthy to hold on to those memories.”

She had only met Sha’re once, when she had first gone through the Stargate to Abydos a year ago, but through Daniel’s many tales he shared with her over lunches in the cafeteria or a few late night drinks, she felt she knew this extraordinary, brave woman well. She certainly knew how much Daniel loved her; it was plain in the way he talked about her. And now those shared memories were all that remained of her…

For a long moment the archaeologist didn’t reply but kept staring at the pen.

“I couldn’t save her.” His nostrils flared as he bit back a sob. “All those wonders we have at our disposal and I couldn’t save her.” His voice was hoarse and a tear tracked down from his bloodshot eyes. Sam had to bite her lower lip to prevent the same thing happening to her. Finally, Daniel put down the pen and looked aside. “I’m just gonna get some sleep if you don’t mind.”

Sam took a deep, trembling breath. “Okay.” Her voice was weak and high-pitched. She stood up from the bed while Daniel slid down from his sitting position. He wiped his face with his arm. Sam just looked over him helplessly, not knowing if she should offer some form of comfort. Honestly, she didn’t know what to say. Her own eyes were burning and she couldn’t keep the picture of his father, leaving the ceremony sick and alone, out of her mind. She had to try twice before she could steady her voice enough to speak. “Let me know if you need anything,” she stuttered out but Daniel was staring at the ceiling by now.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged hollowly.

Sam nodded and with a murmured, half-spoken “OK” that was meant more for herself than her friend, she left the room. Daniel waited until the echo of her shoes knocking on the cement floor died down in the distance, then curled up on his side and cried.

 

Hammond was buried deep into paperwork when he heard a light tap from the entrance of his office.

“Come in.” He looked up to see Daniel Jackson standing at his open door. “Dr. Jackson,” he acknowledged him. “Good to see you back on your feet.”

Daniel stepped inside. “Yes. Uh… Dr. Fraiser just released me.” He stopped next to the work-desk and took out a paper from the dossier he was holding. Hammond waited for him to carry on but the archaeologist only stared at the paper in his hands, his mind obviously elsewhere.

“Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Jackson?” he nudged him.

“Yes, sir.” Daniel finally put the paper on the desk, pushing it towards the General. “I’ve come to tender my resignation.”

Hammond was taken aback. “I won’t accept it,” he declared with surety and shoved the paper aside like it was infected.

“I’m not military, sir,” Daniel replied calmly, “and it’s a free country. Last I checked, anyway.”

“You’re obviously in an emotional state right now,” Hammond stated in a grandfatherly voice as he leant ahead in his chair. “You’re making rash decisions.” Hell, Hammond knew the feeling. He lost his wife four years ago due to cancer. He knew all the imprudent decisions and blind promises a man would do in the heat – or cold embrace – of grief. He had done them himself and he had suffered the consequences… because life went on. Time did not stop, no matter how cruel and unfair was the fate of one person. No matter how much he wanted to scream at life to halt and take notice of this important passing because what he lost was not simply a person but the half of his world and it _deserved_ recognition, it did not happen. Everything went on and he had to let go, had to stop being mad at life because somewhere in that off-colored, unbalanced world there were two bright spot, two little girls who had missed their grandfather.

Hammond only had to look over Daniel, his unkempt hair, the dark circles under his eyes and his unshaven face, to know that he was in that colorless state right now and he needed time to realize himself that leaving the guilt and grief behind and continuing life did not mean the desecration of his wife’s memory. That you weren’t a bad person just because in time the crippling pain of loss lessened inside you and you could once again smile wholeheartedly. It only meant that you were a human being.

“Why don’t you take some personal time, then see how you feel,” he offered sympathetically.

“That’s not necessary, sir,” Daniel declined, his voice still carrying barely any emotions. “I joined this program so that I could find my wife. I found her.” He shrugged like that was all that happened. “End of story.”

Hammond opened his mouth to say something, then he closed it. It was not his place to verbally shake the man out of his seemingly emotionless state. This detachment and paralyzing feeling of helplessness, it was a natural stage of grief before true shit – that is the real, unmerciful depression – hit the fan. And it was a step towards acceptance.

So Hammond gave in. “Alright, son. I will arrange some help to transfer your belongings to your home.” _And I will hold back your resignation request until you change your mind_ , he added in his mind.

“Thank you,” Daniel nodded and without further ado he turned around and left. He had some packing to do and he didn’t want to spend a minute longer in this damned underground facility than it was necessary.

In his office he looked around. So many books, dictionaries and studies of ancient civilizations, and so many relics, both from his early diggings or from extraterrestrial origins. Whit this stuff and his collection at home he could easily fill a museum of his own.

He needed to pack all this up. Maybe if he busied himself and focused only at the task in front of him his mind would stop reeling. Maybe, for just a few minutes, he would stop seeing the same face with the agonized features again and again…

Luckily Hammond was true to his words and fifteen minutes later two Airmen reported for duty. The actually showed up with salutes and acted like he was their superior officer. The Air Force never stopped to amaze him. For a childish moment he felt tempted to leave them hanging; to just ignore them and see for how long would they stand there with straight backs, not knowing what to do. But then a still sane voice in his head warned him that his current misery was not the fault of this two young soldiers so he called them in and assigned them the task of hauling his numerous and heavy books outside while he handled the wrapping of the fragile artifacts.

With the additional help Daniel was almost done sorting through and packing his stuff in under two hours. That was when Jack finally found him. The man let himself in as usual, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Hey,” he greeted him. Daniel only glanced at him over his shoulder then continued loading a carton box full with knick-knacks from his desk. “You should meet the whiz kid they saddled us with while you’re out of commission.” While Jack tossed that topic up he casually snatched up a priceless ceremonial ladle and testingly swung it in the air like a baseball bat.

“Robert Rothman,” Daniel affirmed. He himself recommended the man in the past as a stand-in if anything would happen to him. No doubt Jack came straight from a meeting where Hammond debriefed him of the situation. “He was my research assistant when I was doing my dissertation. Smart guy. Eh…” Daniel smiled as he remembered his academic years. “Had a good teacher.”

Jack swung the ladle like a golf club this time. “Geek.”

“Yes. You used to call me that.”

“I was talking about you.” Jack finally put down the artifact (not where he found it, of course) and walked closer. “So…” He awkwardly looked around in the room. “How long are we gonna be stuck with this guy?”

Daniel stopped packing and looked at him but Jack was conveniently studying the oh-very-interesting locker at the opposite wall. “What do you mean?”

Jack turned towards him, shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled like his question was as trivial as asking for a copy of his Sumerian dictionary. “How long are you gonna be gone?”

Yeah, this question was as innocent as the likelihood of that scenario happening.

Daniel placed the book that was in his hand into the box. “Didn’t General Hammond tell you?”

“What? That you quit?” Jack was almost snorting. “Yeah, he told me that. But, uh…” He hopped on an already cleared table. “Come on!” He leant closer and wave with his hand between the two of them. “We both know you can’t stay away.”

Daniel didn’t even know how he wanted to handle that statement. There were many emotions boiling inside him but honestly, he was too damn tired to be irate with the Colonel and his childish cockiness.

“Then I guess we’re both wrong, ‘cos… I’m gone,” he replied bluntly.

Jack crossed his legs on the table and smirked at him all-knowingly. “Give it a week. You’ll miss me.”

Daniel didn’t look up from his packing; he was looking through some books, contemplating if he should leave them there for the other researchers. “Yes,” he deadpanned, “all the salty, bad-tempered insults, all the illogical arguments–”

“Okay,” Jack gave in. “You’ll miss Carter and Teal’c.”

Now that made Daniel’s fingers go white with the force he gripped the book that just came into his hands. That heedless comment nearly made him snap. But lethargy was stronger than anger and he simply let it go. He didn’t have energy for this useless argument. “I’ll miss Carter.”

Jack realized his earlier mistake the minute his tongue slipped so he quickly diverted the conversation to safer waters with a forced spiritedness. “And you’ll miss the excitement. All the new cultures you get to explore, the living history. It’s the kind of stuff you can’t walk away from.”

Daniel was truly outraged by now. How could he think that excitement and exploration was more important to him than his wife had been!? But again, he was too weary to manage anything more than a languid reply.

“Jack,” he started placidly, but he had to stop to take a deep breath. “Up until now, every time I set foot through that gate I was thinking about my wife. At first I thought maybe I’ll see her this time. Maybe this is the one. Then, after Apophis died, I counted every day until the one year passed, knowing that with each day, with each mission I was going to get closer to her. Now every time I go through, it’d just be some… place… where that hope used to be.” He had to stop because his throat closed and his eyes burned. Jack had the decency to look aside. “That’s why I can’t do it anymore,” Daniel finished with a weak voice. He had to snivel and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I hope you understand that.”

Jack sat the speech through with a grim face. He may have acted childish or looked heartless sometimes but he knew Grief, with a capital G, damn it! He had lost his son, Charlie, for God’s sake, and he had nearly become a self-destructive drunkard if it wouldn’t have been for the Stargate Program. It gave him new purpose. And he wasn’t gonna let Daniel walk the same path. He didn’t want to lose another friend. So he didn’t back up but kept pushing.

“The SGC may be _the_ single most important human endeavor for the future of mankind,” he cited. “Not bad, huh?” He raised his eyebrows defiantly and leant closer. “ _You_ said that.”

Daniel put both of his hands on the table and bent forward with lowered head. He needed a moment to gather himself, to stay upright.

“The SGC will go on without me,” he declared hoarsely, then with one swift motion he closed the full paper box with its lid, hauled it up and walked out. Despite all their disagreements he liked Jack and considered him as his friend – but not right now. Now he had enough of the Colonel’s insensibility; he was fed up with people telling him that this thing he had been doing, this whole facility around him, was worth more than one’s life. Than Sha’re.

Well, they could all take this base and mission and shove it in their asses, for all he cared.

Daniel strode through the corridors with angry steps. His destination was the elevator that could take him to the surface. He would get inside his car and drove home while he could and leave the rest of the packing to the two Airmen. He wouldn’t have to set a foot inside this mountain ever again – apart from the one last trip to Abydos when the funeral ceremony would be held – and he found great pleasure in that thought.

Unfortunately, another unwelcomed surprise waited him at the elevator. Another SG-1 member trying to speak with him by getting in his way. Only with this person Daniel had to muster all of his willpower not to use his fist as a communication method. Or not to throw up. Just looking at the big Jaffa made him nauseous.

“Please get out of my way, Teal’c,” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I will,” assured him Teal’c with stern features. “But you must hear me first.”

“I have a pretty good idea what you wanna say.”

The Jaffa’s face did not change or showed any emotions. “Is there not some form of human ritual in which I may ask your forgiveness?”

Daniel wanted to laugh; like it was that simple! But the stubbornness with which Teal’c stood before him, not backing away or flinching, but with the rigidness of someone who kept himself upright with sheer pride… They were the telltale signs of a person who was eaten by guilt and longed for absolution. For a moment Daniel felt pity for him therefore he looked into his eyes and answered honestly.

“No.”

The elevator’s door opened and Daniel bypassed Teal’c to get inside. He pushed the button of the top floor. As the doors closed the Jaffa looked back at him over his shoulder with a final, desperate plea in his eyes, but Daniel stared back unimpassionately. He would never forgive Teal’c for not waiting longer in that cave, for not giving Sha’re more time to push the baby out.

He would never forgive the murderer of his wife.

 

The funeral took place on Abydos. Sha’re’s grave was empty but it did not matter – the Abydonians laid to rest not the body but the soul. Their culture stemmed from Ancient Egypt but their traditions rooted back to a time when Ra still ruled over them in the midst of a Goa’uld pantheon, and when they had known very well that their body would not always be theirs to command.

A lot of people came. There were many Abydonians, friends of Sha’re or Kasuf, or even Skaara. Daniel knew all of them by face and most of them by name.

The SGC was also present; Hammond came personally, as well as Jack, Sam and Janet. They were escorted by a few Airmen who patrolled the area during the ceremony. Daniel was sure there was no danger of Heru’ur coming back to take revenge – not after they proved to him that Abydos was armed and dangerous, especially while the System Lords had a bigger problem in the form of the Regis who was out there, systematically hunting them down – but the Air Force liked to play safe.

Teal’c had the decency to stay away. Daniel was more than happy for that.

Kasuf led the ceremony as the chief of the tribe. He chanted the ancient prayer for the departed soul, standing before the ceremonial balance scale. When he finished he nodded towards his son-in-law who stepped forth. Daniel, with a white feather in his hand, knelt beside the scale, facing the golden monkey figure that sat on the pivot of the scales. The baboon was the representation of Thoth, the scribe of the gods and a deity of equilibrium, who supervised and recorded the rite of the Weighting of the Heart.

“I speak for Sha’re, who can no longer speak for herself,” he announced to the symbolical god, then he confessed in both Egyptian and English. “I have spoken no lies, nor acted with deceit. I was once possessed by a demon who did these things against my will. The demon is gone and now I am without sin. Grant me a place in your blessed dwelling.” He placed the feather of Ma’at, the representation of truth, order and justice, to one of the scales. In the realm of the dead the deceased would put their heart on the other scale to weigh their life, their actions and thoughts against the feather. “If my heart weighs more than a feather, my soul still contains sin. If not, may my soul join the god.” Kasuf raised his arms to the sky with palms up, as did all the gathered Abydonians. This was the deciding moment for the departed soul, whether it could find peace or not. The scale didn’t tip. Daniel stood up to deliver the final words. “By the trial of the great scales, thy heart is light. Thy soul has been found true.”

The Abydonians lowered their arms. The tribute was over; another soul found eternal peace in the Afterlife. The assembled crowd slowly trickled away, returning to their everyday chores. Daniel wanted to leave too, to join his comrades who respectfully remained standing next to the ‘burial site’ a few paces away, but Kasuf halted him.

“Good son,” he addressed him as he grabbed his arm. Daniel looked at him heavy-heartedly.

“It was a beautiful ceremony, good father.”

“It was,” agreed the old man. “But my heart is still burdened.”

“Why? Your daughter is with the gods.” Daniel struggled to keep the bitter sarcasm out of his voice when he talked about the Abydonians primitive beliefs. Sha’re was with no gods; she was dead and wiped out of existence.

“Yes,” whispered Kasuf firmly, seemingly not noticing his son-in-law’s dark mood. Then he looked straight in Daniel’s eyes and shook his head. “But you still have not heard her.”

That confused the archaeologist. “I don’t understand.”

“It saddens me to see you still mourning. It looks like you haven’t found peace.” The old man’s voice was thick with concern.

Daniel was angry. Peace? How could he find peace when a part of his heart was ripped out? How could Kasuf even suggest that he should simply forget everything?

“Not a month have passed since Sha’re’s death,” he lashed out furiously. “How can you get over what happened her so quickly? Wasn’t she your daughter?”

Kasuf stood calm and steady in the storm of Daniel’s frustration and outrage. Perhaps the people from Tau’ri saw their culture and tribesman primitive but Kasuf was old and wise. He had seen much more in life than his son-in-law; he had lost wives, children and friends alike. He may not have had academic terms for self-blame or survivor’s guilt but he knew these feelings and he knew what they would do to people.

“Yes, she was my daughter,” he replied sedately. “Every Abydonian knows that the dead are at peace and they want us to be at peace, too. When you feel sorry for them, when you are mournful because their life was cut short, you are in truth sorry for yourself and mourn your own life that have changed. The dead do not care about life anymore and scenarios that could have been – only the living do. The dead are at a better place where they don’t have to worry anymore. Their life is complete and they don’t need us to grieve about it.” He squeezed Daniel’s shoulder reassuringly. “If you truly loved my daughter, you should hear what she is trying to tell you from the realm of the gods.” And with that Kasuf left the dumbfounded archaeologist.

Daniel was still contemplating his words when he left Abydos with Hammond and Janet. He did not linger at the base but he didn’t want to go home just yet. Following a strange whim, he visited his parent’s graves. The last time he went there was after they traveled to P7J-989 where the last members of an old civilization had built machines that had kept them alive while connected their minds and created a virtual reality from their memories. Daniel along with his teammates had been trapped inside those pods and the bored locals had used his recollection of his parent’s death to entertain themselves with new drama. That was the first time after God knows how many years that he went back to his parent’s graves. That time he brought flowers and cleaned up the tombstones a bit. This time he simply sat down on the grass and talked. The words streamed out of him as if a dam had broken down inside his soul. He told his father and mother everything that happened to him; his work with the SGC, his travels through the Stargate, his year on Abydos, Sha’re, her disappearance and eventually her horrible death. He sat there, in front of the gravestones, just talking until the sun disappeared behind the distant hills and dusk creeped over the cemetery. He had never spoken to his deceased parents like this before but it felt right. He felt… lighter. More at ease. Calmer.

His newly found balance was short-lived, of course. When he finally got back to his downtown apartment the first thing that greeted him was a broken lock on his front door. Somebody broke into his flat, probably to steal his priceless artifacts. Figures. If life dumped shit on you it would use a load at once not just a handful.

Daniel entered his home expecting it plundered and in shambles but to his surprise everything was in order. He wasn’t ransacked – he only had two unexpected visitors.

“Hey, Daniel,” greeted him Jack idly while leisurely sitting on his sofa and playing with a lighter in his hand. Opposite to him sat Kasuf in a military coverall uniform. He likely had to leave his normal clothing at SGC to avoid suspicion while having a trip on the Tau’ri. It was basic SGC protocol for every extraterrestrial visitor.

“Hi,” said Daniel out of reflex but still a little bit perplexed. He slowly put down his keys and tentatively walked farther into his living room. “Why did you break into my apartment?”

“You left the base before we could catch you. We thought we’d stop by and see you here.”

Daniel crossed his arms, looked at Kasuf who sat there with a straight back and uneasiness clear on his features – he looked and clearly felt out of place – than stared back at Jack who was the epitome of relaxed nonchalance. His only telltale was that he rather toyed with a lighter he didn’t use than to return his gaze. Well, Daniel had enough bullshiting for a day.

“Why did you break into my apartment?” he asked again, this time stressing every word impatiently. Jack rolled his eyes and put down the lighter.

“Got sick of waiting, so I let us in,” he answered straightly. “You…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “…need a new lock, by the way.”

Kasuf, seeing the gathering storm clouds above Daniel’s head, quickly interrupted. “Good son!” He jumped up from his seat and stood before his son-in-law. “It is important I speak with you.”

Daniel swallow down his first irate, childish remark and took a deep breath to control himself. This whole situation was more than likely not the old man’s fault. “What is it, good father?” he inquired in the respectful tone Kasuf deserved.

“Colonel O’Neill says you are leaving his tribe,” the man spoke with an urgent, almost panicky voice. “That you no longer intend to go through the Chappa’ai. Is this so?”

Daniel grimaced with a sour taste in his mouth but nodded. “It is.”

“Well, this disturbs me greatly,” Kasuf stated indignantly. “It gives the people of Abydos great security knowing that you are among the gods, protecting us.” With his last words he looked hopefully at the younger man, but Daniel disappointingly lowered his gaze.

“I’m sorry, good father. I joined the SGC in the hopes of finding Sha’re.” He looked up with eyes full of shame and hurt. “That goal is no longer attainable. So I cannot travel among the gods any more. I hope you can understand.”

“But my daughter wishes you to travel among the gods!”

The archaeologist was at the end of his patience. “Forgive me, good father, how do you know that?”

“She told me herself!” Seeing the utter confusion on Daniel’s face the old man smiled. “Good son… Daniel. You came to us through the circle of the gods and helped us break free of the false Ra. You opened our eyes and taught us how to read again, how to connect with our ancestors.” He spoke as a weary but proud father. “Even when you lived a humble life among us my daughter knew you were destined for greater things. She often expressed to me her sadness that you stopped following your tribe just to remain with her. Her cowardice of telling this to you and not letting you go was her greatest shame.”

Daniel was speechless. He had no idea… Sha’re never told him… He sometimes caught a hidden sorrow and longing in her eyes but Sha’re never spoke about it and Daniel assumed the fault was with him, that he was too distant sometimes when he immersed himself in the research of the second temple’s wall-writings, when he wistfully stared at the new gate addresses, wishing he could travel to those incredible new places…

Oh, what a fool he was!

“Thank you for telling me this, good father,” Daniel mumbled out subduably.

“Ehm, yeah…” Jack awkwardly stood up from the sofa. He was a silent watcher all along and Daniel honestly forgot about him being there. “We should get going. I have to bring Kasuf back before the clock ticks midnight, and all…”

Daniel saw them out; nobody was in the mood for hearty farewells but the archaeologist didn’t care. His mind was elsewhere – he chewed on Kasuf’s words (not just these but the ones he had said on the funeral) over and over again until he felt he would choke on them. He went into bed with a million thoughts in his mind and he couldn’t sleep. He turned to his right side, then to his left, then to his back, and stared at the ceiling. The headlights of the occasionally passing cars shone through the window blinds and streaked his plafond with growing and shrinking white trails.

He wished for Sha’re to be there; she would know what troubled him without asking and she would caress his face while gently telling him that tomorrow he should rise and return to his travels through the Chappa’ai.

“No, I won’t,” whispered Daniel to the empty, dark room. “I don’t need to any more. I’ve already found you.”

_You must continue_ , insisted Sha’re in his mind. _And for that, you must first forgive Teal’c. He did what is right._

“When he killed you?”

_I was in great pain because the child couldn’t come forth. Not even the demon inside me could set that right. Teal’c knew that and chose to set me and the baby free from the suffering._

“He could have waited longer. I would have found a way…”

_There was nothing you could have done, my love._

“But I promised to you–”

_It wasn’t your fault, my Daniel. Your last words to me were that you loved me, and I carried that memory to the Afterlife with me. I am content._

Even in his imagination Sha’re knew him better than he did himself. She always knew what he wanted to say or do a step ahead of him. She was kind and clever and brave, and she always supported him…

Oh God, he missed her! He missed her touch, the taste of her lips, the sweetness of her voice, the pureness of her soul. He almost felt her fingers combing through his hair and the tender kiss she placed on his forehead while he struggled to swallow back his tears.

_Sssh_ , Sha’re soothed him with a sad smile. _Go back to sleep, my husband._

 

Days and weeks rolled by like the grains of sand trickling inside of an hourglass. Daniel had no idea which day of the week or the months it was, he simply got up in the morning and went to bed at night. Between the two event he did not do much. He didn’t care to do anything.

Once he started to write a monograph about the Abydonian history and culture but it ended up as a personal diary filled with his memories with Sha’re. He shoved it to the ground when he got fed up with the pointless recollections. Later he gathered the scattered papers from the floor and locked it up in his personal safe.

He tried to watch TV, to catch up with the events on Earth, but he couldn’t stop musing over what kind of a new and extraordinary discovery Sam may had that the news should report about instead of showing which celeb married with whom. Life in the US was painstakingly plain compared to the problems and interplanetary conflicts of the Milky-way Galaxy’s other inhabitants. Knowing what was out there – Goa’ulds, Asgards or the Regis – watching a sci-fi show on TV was incredibly stupid.

Daniel intended to get on with his life, to find an excavation in the most remote part of Earth he could think of, and go there to work. Be at a distance of the Stargate and all the craziness of his life. Be at a distance of his memories and losses…

He called many of his old friends and colleges from university but none of them could recommend him anything good enough. His area of expertise was Egyptology but he didn’t want to go near of that topic ever again. He was inclined more towards the region of Africa. Or Tibet. Tibet sounded nice.

Sam often visited him and brought news about how Dr. Fraiser and Cassandra was doing, or how Jack scared away yet another scientific officer who was assigned in Daniel’s place. Apparently Dr. Rothman could only last one week under the Colonel and even with that he led the constantly growing list as the one who endured the longest. She also told him how Teal’c learned from Bra’tac that not long after the events on Abydos the Regis killed Heru’ur, the System Lord who indirectly was responsible of the tragedy of Sha’re’s labor. If it wouldn’t have been for the Goa’uld’s sudden arrival and aggressive manhunt, Daniel and Teal’c could have brought Sha’re to the SGC where medical personals could have helped with the childbirth…

Again, a lot of could-have-beens. Daniel knew he should learn to let those go.

On one of the days Sam came to visit Daniel asked her to bring Teal’c along next time. The woman didn’t comment on this but immediately showed up the next day with the big Jaffa in her tow. Teal’c wore unusually casual clothes and a baseball hat to hide his gold emblem on his forehead – no doubt the latter was a curtesy from Jack.

“Teal’c,” Daniel addressed him, “you did the right thing.”

And the Jaffa bowed his head with acknowledgement.

Daniel continued conversing with Sha’re; he found it relaxing to talk to his departed wife, to explain her every little piece of technology he had in his flat. Every little marvel he wanted to share with her from the ballpoint pen to the coffee machine, from the remote control to the hot water tap – he laid his whole world before the woman he loved and begged for her forgiveness because he failed to protect her and show all this to her in person. Now he could only talk with a ghost of a distant memory…

He had his ups and downs in those weeks. Mostly he was an emotional wreck but slowly and steadily he pieced together himself. Sha’re helped a lot. In his mind she was always kind and patient, always urged him to forgive himself – a more difficult task than forgiving Teal’c – and move on. She was alright where she was, really, and his father was right not to worry about her. Daniel should talk to him once more, should talk to Jack and Hammond. Should continue his travels through the Stargate.

In all truthfulness, Daniel missed the SGC. He had a hard time admitting it to Sha’re (to himself), but he gradually grew bored at home. Not even his books or writings could keep his mind busy and whenever one of his colleges contacted him with a possible expedition-work he turned all of them down for some reason or another. Deep down he knew none of them was like the real thing: none of those jobs came near the excitement of discovering new cultures on new planets across the galaxy. Just like Jack had predicted – not like Daniel would ever admit it to him – he missed him _and_ Teal’c _and_ the excitement. In those moments Sha’re simply smiled at him happily.

She was fading away from him in every passing day while the cold autumn weather creeped over and settled on the city. Thinking about her and their life together no longer hurt him. He no longer felt shame and guilt when he forgot about her for a while and went on with his day contently. Sha’re deserved to be remembered and held close to his heart, but not in every minute of every day, and Daniel reached the realization that it was okay. He did not violate her memory and their shared love simply because he could think about other things than her and be peaceful in a world where she wasn’t at anymore. He would never fully get over the absence of his beloved and beautiful wife but he could live with this absence, with only the memories. It got easier in time.

Eventually, in a rainy, early October day Daniel once again knocked on the door of Hammond’s office.

“I never put through your resignation papers,” was the first thing the General said to him when he saw him while a big, knowing smile played on his lips.

Daniel had to smile, too. “Good, because I’ve given it some thought and I’ve decided I’d like to come back.”

“Excellent, given that Colonel O’Neill was just here, trying to get your thirteenth replacement out of his unit.” Hammond tried to sound annoyed but he failed and Daniel chuckled as he imagined his irate, childish and unmanageable friend as the new boogey-man of the scientific department.

“Yeah, I bet.”

He had to admit, he felt relieved being back at the base, hearing that not Hammond nor Jack had given up on him. For the first time in months he felt truly at ease. As they say, there was no place like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I start my avalanche of complains about the lack of any logic in this episode, let me explain a few things. This chapter is in truth two episodes in one: ‘S02E09 Secrets’ and ‘S03E10 Forever In A Day.’ As I said before, the show-runners must have hated wives – Sha’re was featured all in all in three episodes (the aforementioned two and the pilot), and her role was just as meaningless as Drey’auc’s. The chemistry between Vaitiare Bandera and Michael Shanks is as good as nonexistent (which is funny because they were romantically involved in real life and have a daughter together). The Harcesis child was also a dead end; he was a plot device for the introduction of Oma Desala then there was a meaningless episode about his knowledge he couldn’t share with anyone because of the corruption of power, and wherein he simply Ascended in the end. No explanation and no more role. With a lot of considerations, I decided to write out both Sha’re and her child in this chapter, because, let’s face it, they don’t serve any purpose in the later game and they were killed off soon after by the creators, too.  
> Nevertheless, their death was indeed gruesome, and I apologize for that. I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been for women in the past when modern medical treatment wasn’t available during childbirth. My cousin had a troublesome delivery because her baby-boy’s head was stuck and the doctors had to perform an episiotomy and vacuum-extraction. These kind of problems must have come up during the middle ages or ancient times when the only help was the skills of a midwife – no wonder there was a high mortality range among woman in labor. :(  
> Now, in a cheerier note: the original episode had no logic in it whatsoever. Sha’re is 9 months pregnant in this time which means she had to be on Abydos when Apophis came to attack Earth. But, because the Abydonian Stargate was buried during that time Apophis had to come by ship, which means he couldn’t have arrived by the Stargate in the end of the episode as he shouldn’t have known it was operational!  
> Teal’c states that Heru’ur’s Jaffa would find them which notion was undermined by the fact that nobody actually found their hideout in the episode. The Jaffa are incompetent, and to top it all Heru’ur believes Teal’c when he says Apophis has already come for his wife. Which is nonsense again, given that Heru’ur has a Hat’ak with planetary sensors – he should have known if another Goa’uld fleet was nearby!  
> Furthermore, the “escape plan” for Teal’c and Daniel is as thought-out as jumping before a moving car. I mean, seriously!? They just walk to Heru’ur, tell him a half-assed lie, and hope for the best. Daniel nearly dies because of that, and their only saving grace is the deus ex machina arrival of Jack and Sam.  
> And then, Apophis arrives with only four Jaffa guards, while SG-1 is in a favorable position: they can ambush and overpower him with the element of surprise! But no, they do nothing, only watch as Amaunet and him leave. Stupid.  
> And, at last, the child. The important baby of Sha’re, the first human-Goa’uld hybrid they know, a clearly important figure – and they just leave him! The danger passed, Heru’ur and Apophis both don’t know about the baby’s real whereabouts – why won’t SG-1 take the child? This doesn’t make any sense, just like the fact that Daniel doesn’t try other options to hide the unconscious Sha’re from Heru’ur and Apophis, but simply gives her up. The love of his life who he finally found again.  
> Let’s face it, this episode was a pile of illogical nonsense designed to get rid of Sha’re’s storyline and keep Daniel in the picture (because if he truly was reunited with his wife he would definitely quit from SGC to have a normal family life).


	10. S02E10 Bane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, SG-1 encounters some trouble, however before everything can get out of hand they try to call for help.

“Sir, we have to do something!” Jack’s tone was urgent and demanding. “We can’t just sit back and watch as they take Teal’c away!”

“As much as I agree with you, Colonel, I have no choice.” The rigidness of Hammond’s voice and stance betrayed his anger and frustration about their situation. “As you saw, Maybourne has an official order.”

“As Teal’c’s medical officer I have a right to stop this,” interjected Janet. “He is not well enough to be moved!”

“Unfortunately, doctor,” the General remarked, “they have a second opinion.”

“I hate to say it,” Sam added, “but Timothy is the best in his field. And he gave me his word he was going to help Teal’c.”

“If we even can trust anything the NID says,” grunted Daniel sarcastically.

All five of them were gathered in Hammond’s office behind closed doors. What they were discussing went against higher orders but they did it for their friend.

Everything started with their daily, run-of-the-mill recon mission. With Daniel back in business again, the SG-1 team had gone to BP6-3Q1 where the initial probe had showed a very advanced city but strangely no radiation levels or any kind of pollution in the air. As it turned out, the place was a ghost town. They were arguing about whether the Goa’uld could have been behind the absence of the inhabitants or something else, when giant freakin’ bugs showed up and one stung Teal’c. They immediately evacuated from the planet but the big Jaffa was already infected with some kind of venom.

As they discovered, the alien insect somehow injected its own DNA into Teal’c. At Sam’s recommendation Hammond brought Dr. Timothy Harlow over, who was one of the world’s top geneticists and already had full security clearance as he worked for the Pentagon. With his help they found out that the insect’s venom contained some kind of retrovirus that began rewriting Teal’c’s genetic material in an alarming speed. To make it worse, somehow the larva Goa’uld in him couldn’t reverse the process and heal him, it could merely stem the tide. It may have brought them a little more time but nobody could tell what would happen if the symbiote lost the battle.

And then Colonel Maybourne showed up with an order to transfer Teal’c to their so called ‘research and development’ department at Area 51. As if anyone didn’t know what they would really do with the Jaffa – the NID did not care about Teal’c’s well-being, they only wanted the insect’s venom to use it as a possible bioweapon. And to top it all Dr. Harlow seemed to be on their side and backed them up with his jurisdiction over medical subjects.

Hammond, Dr. Fraiser and the rest of SG-1 was losing battle. Maybourne had already issued his order to take Teal’c away, they were merely waiting for the transportation to arrive. They had not much time to act but they were desperate to save their friend from the sinkhole Area 51 was.

“The President is still unavailable,” Hammond stated. “I cannot overrule Maybourne’s orders.”

“If we could heal Teal’c before his men arrive his orders would be repealed,” mused Janet. “He doesn’t have the authority to transfer a healthy member of SGC.” She meant it as wishful thinking as she had no idea how to treat the Jaffa – that was truly Dr. Harlow’s area of expertise – however upon hearing her words Sam’s eyes lit up.

“What if we do just that?” she asked animatedly. “What if we ask for help from somebody who has the knowledge and resources to heal Teal’c or take him away to safety, and who helped us before?”

Jack grimaced. “Okay, but how do you plan to contact the Nox again?”

“No,” Daniel cut in with a deep frown. “She didn’t mean the Nox.” He turned to Hammond. “She meant the Regis.”

Jack mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ while Hammond raised his eyebrows and looked at the Captain who shrugged.

“He helped us before, sir.” She referred to the time when O’Neill had become infected with an alien virus that turned out to be a sentient being. She and the General had had a similar argument that time and their gamble had played out well as the Regis had saved all of them.

“Yeah, I like the guy,” agreed Jack gleefully. “And we know how to summon _him_ , that’s for sure.”

Hammond nodded; it may well be their last resort and it was worth a try. He pulled out his desk’s top drawer and without further ado put on the crystal-ring.

“Yes?”

This time Jack knew to expect the sudden appearance so he didn’t flinch. He was really proud of himself (The Regis–Jack, 3:1). He also gloatingly registered that all the others were startled upon hearing the question that came from a sixth person who wasn’t in the room a moment ago. They all turned towards the voice.

The Regis was standing in the corner of the room, next to the glass star map. As always he wore the same clothes, the same hairstyle and the same emotionless, almost bored expression. All in all, he looked immaculate. Maybe being the ruler of galaxies was not such a stressful job after all.

“Hi there, too.” Jack waved his hand as a friendly hello. “Um… Thanks for saving my life last time, by the way.”

A positively smug smile lit up the Regis’ face. “You know, I had to make a hard bargain. The A’t’trr really liked your body.”

Jack couldn’t surpass the unpleasant shiver that ran through him as he recalled the events with that alien orb that housed a whole virus-like species. And, not to mention, shot out spikes to impale people to cement walls.

“Mr. Regis,” Hammond took over, “we may need your help again.”

Daniel stepped forward hastily. “Our friend, Teal’c, has, am… a situation. We encountered this alien insect–”

“What he’s trying to say is that Teal’c is sick and you are our best hope to save him.”

The Regis frowned. “Sick how?”

“It’s best if we just show you,” declared Sam and with no other objections their little group quickly left the office.

On their way to the infirmary Janet surmised what they knew about the insect’s venom and its effect. However, before they could reach the sickbay Sam hurried ahead.

“I will distract Timothy.”

Hammond nodded his approval and the Captain disappeared towards the medical laboratory.

The General looked at his watch. “The transport should arrive any minute. I will stall Maybourne as long as I can.” He, too, strode away with a straight back and stern purpose.

“This way,” gestured Janet to the Regis, opening the infirmary’s door. Jack, using his rank, ordered every military personnel out of the room, not giving Maybourne’s men a chance to interrupt their plan. When there was only the four of them Janet pulled the curtain that shrouded Teal’c’s sickbed. The big Jaffa was just barely conscious. He lay on his back, his body shivering with fever and his skin gleaming with sweat. He opened his opalescent eyes to look at them but Jack soothed him before he could waste his remaining strength with speaking.

“Where’s his wound?” asked the Regis as he looked over the Jaffa with a dark, worried expression.

Janet was the quickest to answer. “On his back, at his right shoulder.”

“Then help me roll him over.”

Jack instantly moved to comply, however Teal’c was ahead of them and although slowly and laboriously but he turned around himself. He lay flat on his stomach and grabbed the edge of his bed with both hands, expecting great pain from the examining and probing of his infected wound. Instead the Regis only stared at the festering puncture mark on his back. He seemed to be in deep concentration as he looked over the Jaffa’s body.

Jack wanted to say something, to make a joke just to break this unnervingly tense atmosphere but he didn’t dare to interrupt whatever the Regis was doing. From the corner of his eyes he saw Janet opening her mouth, maybe to offer some medical information, but then she tentatively closed it. She was as much at her wits end as he was.

Between them Daniel stood silently, with his arms crossed protectively before his chest while he absentmindedly chewed on the nail of his thumb. Jack didn’t even want to know what the archaeologist was thinking at the moment, seeing how easily they could ask for aid for Teal’c while in the case of Sha’re they had been utterly powerless to help.

“Yeah, I see the cause,” the Regis confirmed at last. “I can mend it but it will take a while.”

“If you need I can break Maybourne’s legs. That will stall him for a few weeks.” Janet scowled at him but Jack just shrugged. This time he was not joking; the NID operative deserved a forced vacation on a hospital bed.

“How much time?” inquired Daniel, always the calm and pragmatic one.

“I don’t know,” the Regis replied without paying much attention to them. His focus was entirely on Teal’c. He raised his arms and placed his hands above the Jaffa’s back – then after a deep breath he finally sprang into action…

Or Jack would have wanted to say, seeing how the Regis tensed his body, like readying himself to jump or run or fight, but in truth not much happened. Frankly, Jack didn’t even know what he expected to happen. Maybe that he would start giving them orders how to make an antidote? Or he would pull out a strange, advanced healing device like the one the Goa’uld had, and use that? Or maybe he would simply teleport away with Teal’c to come back after an hour completely healed? Jack genuinely didn’t know what he was imagining but sure as hell he didn’t foresee what unfolded before his eyes.

The Regis was doing… nothing, really. He leant over Teal’c and kept staring at his back while his fingers danced above the Jaffa. It was like he was playing an imaginary piano in the air, or knitting a nonexistent scarf without the knitting needles. Jack had no idea what to think of this.

“Um,” he cleared his throat politely because a man should tread carefully with overlords that clearly went mad. “What are you doing?”

“I’m correcting his tainted aura.”

“Aham… What?”

“Aura?” Dr. Fraiser was also utterly baffled.

“In absence of a better English word, yes, aura.” The Regis spoke over his shoulder, not breaking his concentration and movements even for a second. “The threads of magic which are woven around you in an intricate, unique pattern that compose your very existence; your own imprint in the world around you.”

“Again, what?” Jack roughly understood every tenth word of that sentence.

“Basically, I mend the tangled threads of his aura to restore its original pattern thus guiding his own body to regenerate itself. The rest is up to the Goa’uld larva.” Deadly silence followed his explanation. The Regis sighed. “It’s hard to put it into words for people who can’t see or sense it. And I really need to focus, so if you don’t mind…”

Jack got the message and back away. He was practically breathing on the Regis’ neck in his confused curiosity to see what the other man was doing when he scolded him. Auras or no auras, if this helped Teal’c he wouldn’t utter a word of complain. Or question the sanity of the guy. He still had his doubts about magic but he had to admit, the Regis was pretty amazing. How he was able to do the things he did Jack had no idea but be it mysterious powers or advanced technology, in truth he didn’t care. The Regis was a force to recon with and he had used his influence for good causes and Jack respected that. It was a good thing to know that not just nasty things like the Goa’uld were out there in the universe, but also people like the Nox, the Asgard and the Regis.

Time trickled away in a slow pace. After ten minutes Jack sat down on an empty sickbed and Janet joined him. Daniel remained standing in the same pose, seemingly as deep in concentration as the Regis was. Their friendly neighborhood overlord continued doing his… thing without taking any break. It started to remind Jack of a real surgery with the tense atmosphere and the Regis’ clear dedication and persistent work. After another five minutes Janet abruptly stood up, her eyes widening. Jack needed a few more moments to notice what had made the doctor uneasy but when he did, his own eyes widened in disbelief as well.

The puncture wound on Teal’c’s right shoulder-blade begun to ooze out some kind of sanies. It was disgusting. The Jaffa bit back a painful groan.

Janet immediately rushed to a cabinet that housed the medical supplies and returned with a handful of gauze. Cautiously, not to disturb the Regis’ hand-movements, she soaked up and wiped off the pus with the sterile fabric.

“Is this… Is this the insect’s venom?” she asked incredulously. The Regis didn’t answer and the doctor kept cleaning up the blackish stuff. Jack stepped closer to see better and when Janet pulled the gauze away the wound under it looked much better. It wasn’t festered anymore, only reddened as any irritated patch of skin.

“Wow,” commented Jack very intelligently. And, just in that moment, angry shouts sounded from the hallway; the Colonel recognized the voices. Dr. Harlow must have figured out that something was not right when Maybourne’s men didn’t arrive. Sam desperately tried to keep him out of the infirmary but the geneticist pushed her out of the way. He noisily opened the door, demanding to know what was happening from the Captain who stormed after him – and he stopped dead on his track when he saw them. His eyes quickly darted at the Regis who leant over Teal’c.

“Wha– Who are you?”

Jack had an unpleasant choice before him. Should he explain everything to the doctor or should he get him out of their way? The guy was not really their enemy and he did have security clearance, however he proved to be siding with the NID and they didn’t need anyone who could run to Maybourne to stop them. It seemed Sam had the same conflict as she hesitated behind Dr. Harlow, her eyes going from her old time friend to Jack and back.

In the end none of them had to decide what to do as the Regis glanced behind his shoulder at the geneticist, and the next second Dr. Harlow collapsed to the ground.

Sam knelt beside him with alarm then her shoulders sagged in relief as she found his pulse.

“He’s alright just unconscious,” she reported looking up at the others.

“Get him inside and close the door,” Jack grumbled irritably. The Regis was still healing but they were running out of time – the General was annoyingly persistent if he wanted to be but he didn’t have the jurisdiction to stop Maybourne. They could be here in any minute and Jack didn’t think a simple sleeping-spell – or whatever – would be enough to stop the mayhem that would occur if they saw them. Then again, the Regis once put an entire crew of a Ha’tak into sleep so maybe they could do this alright.

Jack helped Sam settling Dr. Harlow onto a bed then the two of them went back to see how Teal’c was faring. Janet was cleaning the wound nonstop as the venom and other foul things were forced out of the Jaffa’s body. Daniel was a silent watcher next to them who periodically handed new gauzes to the doctor.

It went on like this for another five or so minutes when finally the ooze ran out, and with that the Regis’ hands stopped. He took a deep breath, let his arms drop to his side and stepped back, nodding towards Dr. Fraiser. She took it as a permission and begun to dress Teal’c’s wound with clean bandages.

“Can you sit up?” he asked when Janet finished. The big Jaffa shakily nodded and with Jack and the doctor’s help turned around in the bed and pulled himself up to a sitting position. His skin was still covered with sweat but he stopped shivering and his eyes looked clearer. All in all, he looked worse for wear but in a sense that he was over the worst part and in the road of recovery. The Regis handed him a vial that was definitely not in his hands a moment ago.

“Drink this.” Teal’c complied without a question while Jack stared at them.

“Okay, at least you have to tell me how you do that pulling-things-out-of-nowhere act!” He was dying to know how he teleported in a blink of an eye or how he could make things appear in his hand. They really could use a device as the one he got.

The Regis blinked at him. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“Humor me.”

“It’s not teleportation, if that’s what you want to know,” he replied while pointedly glared at Sam. The Captain closed her mouth before she could say all the scientific theories she had come up with since they first met. “What I do is simply bend the space around myself to another point of space, for example where this vial was in a hospital I know of. The vial does not travel in space nor do I – I merely fold two spots of space together in one.” He hummed thoughtfully. “If it helps you to imagine, you could say I grabbed the vial through a wormhole of space I opened between my hand and the hospital’s stock.”

Sam looked like she had an ‘aha!’ moment, finally understanding the logic and mechanism behind this space-bending thingy. Jack was nowhere near that enlightenment. He naturally knew a little bit about wormholes, the basics of how the Stargate operated, but this was a little far-fetched for him.

“But,” Sam spoke up with a puzzled expression, “how do you control the wormhole in such a small scale, without some enormous device? Or without fix points? And… and from where do you get the energy to do all this?” Her mind was clearly in an overload mode seeing how the questions rained from her lips. “You shouldn’t be able to do this without fix points in space!”

“As I said, the wormhole metaphor is a crude simplification. And I get the power from myself. Magic, remember?”

“B– but…”

“Sam,” interrupted Daniel, “let’s test the theories later.” He nervously glanced at the infirmary’s door. Hammond and Maybourne could waltz through there in any moment. Sam understood the message and didn’t press the matter.

Meanwhile Teal’c finally gathered the strength to speak. “I owe you my life, the Regis,” he declared with a weak voice. “For that, I am extremely grateful.” He bowed his head and the Regis nodded back.

“Your welcome. However,” he looked at the others, “we need to clear a misunderstanding here: I’m not a Healer. I’m actually trying to unite several galaxies together in peace. Be so kind and call me only if a whole world’s or nation’s fate is at stake. You are big boys; you can handle your own little problems.”

Declaring Teal’c’s life and death as a ‘little problem’ hurt Jack but couldn’t protest as the Regis, as always, disappeared from the room. His tendency of having the last word in every conversation started to annoy Jack.

“Well, that was rude.”

“He is right, Jack O’Neill,” Teal’c stated calmly. “I am grateful that you wanted to save my life but the Regis is fighting to liberate all the planets from the Goa’uld and that is more important than my life.”

“Yet he helped first and rebuked us later,” Daniel mused. “And what he did was… remarkable.”

“All the foreign DNS is gone,” affirmed Janet who had busied herself with drawing blood and analyzing it with the computer while the others had had their conversation with the Regis. “I don’t know how he did it but he cleared out the venom from your system. I think your Goa’uld larva should heal you in no time now.”

“I believe so, too,” agreed Teal’c.

“I think I understand how he did it,” said Daniel tentatively. “I mean, when he did that… with his hands… I think I _felt_ something.” Now everybody looked at him funnily and the archaeologist was almost blushing in his flustered state. “Like he said, you couldn’t _see_ what he was doing, but it felt like he was righting Teal’c. Like he was cutting out a ruined part of his body to make it whole and healthy again…”

“And you _felt_ it?” With the amount of incredulity in Jack’s voice they could have built a temple of atheism.

“It’s hard to explain,” Daniel shot back a little angrily.

“Yeah, he said that, too.”

“Whatever he did, it worked,” cut in Janet, effectively subduing the brewing argument between the two men with her no-nonsense tone.

“Indeed,” agreed Teal’c. “I feel much better.”

“It’s good to hear,” smiled Sam and reassuringly patted the big Jaffa’s arm.

That was the moment when Maybourne rushed into the room with nearly breaking the door out of its hinges in his furious haste. He was shouting angrily at Hammond, and like Dr. Harlow, he froze to the doorsill as he took in the scenery before him – with the geneticist out cold in a bed, Teal’c healthily sitting on his own bed and the SG-1 members standing idly around the room.

“What’s the meaning of this!?” he demanded with near outrage. Hammond stepped inside the infirmary beside him with a relaxed smile on his face.

“As you can see, Colonel, there’s no need to transfer Teal’c. His condition has been healed already.”

Jack shoved his hands in his pocket leisurely and quickly backed him up with an infuriating smirk. “Yes, the good ol’ Dr. Harlow had a breakthrough and treated Teal’c with the help of Dr. Fraiser. It was a hard operation and in the end the doctor was so… tired he had to lay down a little.”

Maybourne looked at him like he suddenly grew a second head. Daniel had to cover his face with his hand not to betray his grinning while Sam had to bite her lower lip to maintain her stern expression. They all stood by Jack’s impromptu lie as well as Hammond, who, with great satisfaction, asked Maybourne to leave as his orders no longer held up.

“This is not over,” threatened the NID official with a finger pointing at Jack, but knowing when a battle was lost, he spun around and left with his men in tow. Jack had the urge to stuck out his tongue after him.

“Did everything go well?” Hammond asked in a lower, concerned voice.

“Indeed,” bowed his head Teal’c.

“That’s good to hear.” And with that final word Hammond closed the infirmary’s door and walked away. He was due for a long and interesting conversation with the President.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let Allyson Martin’s story be a cautionary tale for all of us. If you find a shady person on an abandoned building, hiding from the authorities and in an obviously very sick state, DO NOT approach that person! Don’t go near him, don’t share your chocolate with him, don’t treat the situation like that person is only a lost puppy! You should run and notify the police or call an ambulance! I know that Teal’c is a main protagonist and therefore a good guy but the world doesn’t work like that. In the real world a girl like Allyson would have become the victim of a horrible, child-relating crime or would have caught a deadly disease. Her reactions towards Teal’c were utterly stupid, incautious, and I would have really liked to have a long talk with her parents…


End file.
